


More than worth it

by LadyDi1980



Category: Let's Play (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Developing Relationship, F/M, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Gaming, Intimacy, Kissing, Light Petting, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Masturbation, Neck Kissing, Phone Sex, Porn, Romance, Sex Talk, Vaginal Sex, half nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 198,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25636564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDi1980/pseuds/LadyDi1980
Summary: He couldn't move. She had froze him to the spot with the barest touch of her fingers on his wrist. He could barely register his own digits shaking ever so slightly. The chains he clenched were damp with sweat in his struggle to keep them tightly grasped. His veins buzzed with a feeling he knew all to well, had experienced countless times with other women. He wasn't going to kid himself and lie about his attraction to her.
Relationships: Charles Jones/Sam Young (Let's Play)
Comments: 183
Kudos: 340





	1. on the precipice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He couldn't move. She had froze him to the spot with the barest touch of her fingers on his wrist. He could barely register his own digits shaking ever so slightly. The chains he clenched were damp with sweat in his struggle to keep them tightly grasped. His veins buzzed with a feeling he knew all to well, had experienced countless times with other women. He wasn't going to kid himself and lie about his attraction to her.

Despite doing as good of a job as possible to squash every emotion known to man, aside from basic pleasure which every human being needed a release of in order to take the edge off of life, Charles had never known to experience more emotions in one short span of time with such a small group of people than anyone he had known. His own family, previously divorced from included, had never vexed nor emotionally stimulated him to such a degree in years. The drama, honesty, envy, upset, irritation, urge to help, and admiration was ever present. Especially over one person out of that small group.

Samara Young.

A person he was honest with, pushed emotional buttons to see her grow, had interesting non-work conversations with, and now physical attraction. He had been one hundred percent truthful when he said she was a beautiful woman inside and out. He knew that she would be amazing in life if only she had the ability to call forth from the depths the courage which her family had buried deep in their well-intended coddling. He knew she would be able to speak her mind, stuttering or not, just as he had slowly witnessed over the few weeks of empowerment exercises. She had done so well and he was proud of her.

_"Touch me Charles. I want to know what you feel like."_

Perhaps a little too well.

He had never intended to feel for another woman ever again. Locking away one's heart was much safer and after a bit of practice, it never saw any attachment between his physical excursions. He had crafted the chains so much over the days, painstakingly twisting the metal closed as he dried his tears and swore never again. Deep breaths to accompany the rattle, hearing it make noise in his subconscious whenever he needed more grip, was calming after a while. It was familiar, and he found himself holding on almost too tightly, perhaps desperately, in every meaningful conversation with the Young family. With Samara, and the skin he could feel move with each breath, his arms were straining in their attempt to remember all of the bad which had transpired before to keep him level-headed.

_"You are going to do something you regret!"_

Those words were meant for her. But they rang in his mind, very quietly echoing amidst the pounding of his heart and heavy breathing accompanying it. They left his lips in vain attempt to keep decorum between them, but she acted like she couldn't hear him...didn't want to hear him.

He couldn't move. She had froze him to the spot with the barest touch of her fingers on his wrist. He could barely register his own digits shaking ever so slightly. The chains he clenched were damp with sweat in his struggle to keep them tightly grasped. His veins buzzed with a feeling he knew all to well, had experienced countless times with other women. He wasn't going to kid himself and lie about his attraction to her.

_"If I let this go any further..."_

If. He had made himself sound so much more sure in the office. He didn't think such a scene as he was experiencing would ever occur or he would have chosen his words much more carefully. He wouldn't have been so careless in that office, with those kisses and empty promises. It was such a common start with the others and he had been overconfident. In that space, she hadn't altered his calm facade with the outfit she had half divested in the spare room. Not even that lovely green dress had him this unnerved.

Samara Young was a dichotomy. At first glance, she had looked frumpy, was overly reserved, and seemed boring. One night of dinner and desserts was all it took to see how fascinating she really was. The ample curves she possessed under the extra large clothes. The silent wall backing her up when she decided to speak. The fire in her eyes that was burning straight at him. The words she spoke that belayed her inexperience.

_"What do I want? I want you Jones."_

No. Not like this. Had he ever entertained thoughts of such an occurrence, this was not amongst the list of things with her. He had never asked or considered it with any other woman he had been with. Such a setup was going to cheapen what he knew to be her first everything. She didn't know what she was doing. She had never drank before. She was not in her right mind, even if her actions were deliberate and her words strong. The sway that somehow didn't topple her over as she walked his way kept him in check.

_"I will no longer be able to call myself a gentleman!"_

After all of the times with Eva and Miss Rosewood, he had never hesitated so much, felt so uncertain, or clutched the chains so fervently. Not through all of the erotic things they asked him to do and the few that they did back to him. His face was never this hot, his veins running with something he thought he had long forgotten...had tried so very hard to leave behind.

_"Please..."_

She made him want to give in. Her personality was gorgeous. She found good in him when he didn't even bother. Her doe brown eyes were always so expressive, sometimes more than he could handle. Those lips he had tested the waters with mere hours earlier were asking for more. The unconscious drive which kept him coming back to help her. The intelligence she showed so many days that they worked together. The fire she let him put kindling under to strengthen herself.

_"You are worth the trouble."_

He had said that so many times to her. But her inexperience was something he wasn't willing to take the trouble on. At the restaurant, he was more willing to rescind his earlier judgment while she was the one to take his hand and pull him back to her yet again. All of those blushes she had given him, coupled with powerful honesty that tried to slap the chains from his hands, made his resolve tremble. She called him a flirt and a tease at the office. Maybe his usual encounters had a small effect on his handling of her. At times, he felt compelled to act on the open, obvious signals she gave. There was nothing to misinterpret; she was open in her thoughts and hid nothing from him whenever those things arose. She never lied to him and as he told her, he could tell when she was. She never bothered to explain herself out of any feeble attempt. She opened her mind and gave him everything.

_"You make me weak. You make me regret. You make me hope. You make me dream."_

Emotions were a dangerous thing. He bothered to give his heart as a young man, never deciding past Gweneneth to know that she was the right one. He gave it to her in full confidence, felt happy and secure in the foolish notion that it was being well-kept. She took the outstretched hand he offered, ring in it, only to throw it back at him later. Everything had shattered. All hope, trust, faith, and love writhed on the floor and drowned in his tears. Once his head finally managed to sustain eyes that were dry, he roughly grabbed those emotions and shoved them in a cage. They dangled from the chains he held onto like a lifeline, now knocking against the bars and swinging the theoretical structure around so much that it banged against the walls in his mind, spurred on by Samara's positive words that wouldn't let him believe his own.

_"You'd be better off giving your affections to another, less jaded man."_

He was a fool. Mere moments before that car ride, he was telling her to show those curves to only him. His jealously at thinking of other men on the bus with that exquisite dress she had on irritated him more than he had been in a while. She had blazed past his do's-versus-say's as if he had never spoken, never grabbed her arm and hovered over her on the desk. Despite how unsure she always appeared, always turned away whenever she tried to speak her mind, he was the only one currently showing massive hesitation. Her eyes were clear and strong despite the alcohol-induced flush on her face. She didn't stutter once, didn't look away or contradict what she just said as she often did when things didn't go as she thought.

The chains clinked. Loudly. Strongly. His grip shook. His breathing wouldn't go down. The blush wouldn't leave his face. Their roles had reversed. She towered over him so much in so many ways and he was helpless to shift, to pull his hands away from warm, soft skin. He harshly swallowed. "Samara...I..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love deep, dramatic introspection. XD


	2. a gallant no

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was a gentleman, but still a man. A deaf man would understand her body language and a blind man would understand her words. A beautiful, half-naked woman who was asking him to climb in bed with her and teach her how to use her body to satisfy both of them.

_His eyes...they look so hungry..._

Everything felt odd. It was good, even though it was overwhelming. This new feeling was coupled by another which had kept her up over a few recent nights, had created that merging of the three important men in her life. She had done things with him, had things mainly done to her, that she had never done in real life. He was created after she was given those websites by Vikki and felt more discomfort than she had in her life. This merged trio had haunted her sleep often, his sultry voice and gorgeous blue eyes never letting her have peace in the mornings.

It was a good thing that those uncertain feelings vanished like thin air in this moment.

“ _If_ _you_ _wish_ _to_ _dress_ _this_ _way_ _for_ _me_ _again,_ _then_ _please_ _do_ _so_ _where_ _only_ _I_ _can_ _see_ _you._ _”_

Perhaps had she a clearer head, she would've been too scared to have gotten out of that bed. To timid to take off her skirt because she couldn't move in it. Couldn't fathom the idea of leaving that room in search of him. To find out where the stairs to his bed was. To be unbuttoning her shirt with her veins buzzing and her head foggy. To stumble in her steps because of one drink. To grab his hand and both order and ask him for permission to do what she felt was the best idea in the world right now. She had wanted it earlier that afternoon, but had been shot down by him again.

“ _Either_ _finish_ _what_ _you've_ _started_ _or_ _stop_ _playing_ _with_ _me._ _”_

The flutter of his fingertips made her shiver and the hair on her body stand up. The small tufts of it on the back of her neck. The cool air in his room got to her legs and arms, but her face was too hot to feel it much. She focused only on the barest part of his palm on her navel.

He had gone hot and cold so often. He would give pretty words and touches, but pull away once logic seemed to take over. He would lap at her like waves on the beach and then hurry away just as quickly. She couldn't tell if he was genuine, but that afternoon at the office seemed to seal everything in stone. He showed an interest in her as she did him, but when he was denying being with her, it only confused her. She didn't understand what was wrong with her that made men push her away. He was the first person that she knew of to praise and encourage her so much. He was a flame she was drawn to, but felt the tips of her wings burnt when she strayed too close. The hug that was interrupted and turned into a misunderstanding, the kiss in the office, the flirting after he gave her his shirt, and the restaurant. All of it in the span of a few days.

“ _We_ _could_ _acquiesce_ _to_ _our_ _baser_ _emotions_ _and_ _allow_ _the_ _situation_ _to_ _develop_ _organically._ _The_ _choice_ _is_ _yours._ _”_

He had said those words in the car just a few hours ago. He put the ball in her court and yet he was running to her side and taking it back before she could make up her mind. Once she regained a better level of consciousness, those final sweet words a siren before his departure from the spare room, the deal was sealed. She told him she didn't want to date anyone or could see herself getting married...but she wasn't opposed to him giving her a few more lessons. He was the best candidate. The attraction was mutual if she could glean anything from his actions today; in the past few instances they had. If he was honest in both word and action, and she wanted to believe he was, there should be no problem.

She swayed forward a little and his palm finished its halted journey against her. She heard his intake of breath over the fogginess in her ears. He hadn't answered her request. Her head tilted a little to the side, her eyes never leaving gorgeous blue.

How she loved staring at that color. They were the most beautiful blue of a clear sky, coupled with the light blonde on top of his head. It was almost like fluffy clouds covering up the sky whenever tendrils would fall in front of them. She wanted to reach out and brush them away, but couldn't find where her hands had wandered to. Her feet seemed still attached, but her brain wasn't giving proper signals to take a step forward.

He always seemed to have his hair out of the way whenever he was being professional or serious. In the office, he mussed it a little before he kissed her hand. During their first night out talking about her game, he had left it wild, just like now. She preferred it on him. It added mystery by hiding a chunk of his face that she always saw at the office. Her fingers twitched as if reaching for his hair and she shuffled half a step to the mattress during a light sway. Still she waited.

“ _I_ _wanted_ _to_ _show_ _you_ _more_ _of_ _me_ _than_ _I've_ _wanted_ _to_ _show_ _anyone_ _before._ _”_

A knee finally made contact with something cotton and she jolted a little, limbs not connected enough to tell her she had approached. The night didn't do much to help, and the fact that she had left her glasses on the nightstand. Somehow, they just seemed annoying to put on, despite the fact that she needed them to see. The blurred edges didn't help the serious lack of disorientation she was experiencing. She was thankful the lamp was left on and all objects were clear so she didn't fall on the stairs up. His room was impeccable, just as he was at the office, and it helped her slow trek across his room.

The movement that pushed his arm back the barest of degrees was enough of a jolt to the spell which had him frozen and in one motion, he pulled his hand from her light grip and yanked the blankets off him. He stood next to her, looking down, but being unable to keep his eyes from dropping as they had so many times that day. To a valley so impressive he mentally itched to see it up close.

“ _Maybe_ _turn_ _your_ _head_ _a_ _bit._ _But_ _that's_ _just_ _wishful_ _thinking._ _”_

One of the chains clinked as if it had been struck with a blunt object, fully intent on being broken.

“S – Samara...please. Where is the shirt you had on??” He looked around the dim lighting, the single lamp and surrounding full moonlight enough to find it pooled near her feet. He quickly snatched it up and put it around her shoulders, closing it as much as possible around her when she wouldn't move to put her arms through the sleeves.

“Does this mean you're not going to teach me anything? I was hoping you would've.”

He harshly swallowed and looked away. His fingers busied themselves by buttoning the top few at the neck which he considered the safest zone to work with. “Samara please... I don't want you to do anything with how you are right now.”

“What's the problem? Is there something wrong with me?”

His head shook, meeting her eyes. She was serious. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you Samara. But I will not continue anything with you behaving like this. It's not healthy for you.” The tips of his fingers carefully placed themselves on a shoulder, taking up as little room as possible. “Now. Let me help you back to your bed so you can sleep off the alcohol. It's not good to be wandering around right now.” He gently pushed against her, hoping she would take the hint.

She turned to the stairs, but the idea of going back down them sounded abhorrent. “I don't wanna.” Her nose scrunched up. “It was hard enough just to get up here. I might fall.”

The last thing he wanted to do was cradle her to his chest with her being half naked and more than willing to clutch at him. She was difficult enough to drive with and be on the elevator as it was; he didn't know how hard it would be to carry her down the stairs. She had no compulsions with touching him right now and if she tried anything she could topple them both into the emergency room. That was one place he was never going to explain his way out of and then he really would be a dead man.

“ _Your_ _employer_ _could_ _swim_ _the_ _entire_ _Pacific_ _Ocean_ _and_ _still_ _have_ _the_ _energy_ _to_ _break_ _your_ _neck._ _”_

The earlier thought helped jog him back to his composure. The chains that rattled in the small glimpse of freedom screamed at being subdued again. He took a deep breath, mentally shaking himself and trying to regain himself. He readjusted his grip on the metal, tugged it as tight as possible and looked to her. “Then you may take my bed for the night. I'll sleep in the spare room.” An arm swept toward it as he took a step away. Distance...yes. Get at least arm's length away. It would help more.

“ _I_ _would_ _be_ _foolish_ _to_ _deny_ _the_ _fact_ _that_ _there_ _is_ _a_ _clear_ _chemistry_ _forming_ _between_ _us._ _”_

Petite hands suddenly rose and clutched the lapels of his pajamas. She frowned, wanting to glare at him for turning her around again. He was like trying to hold water. The ocean coming and going whenever it wished and wrecking the beach, shaping it however it wanted with no regard for what the sand cared about. He did as he pleased, set the mood, created the beginning and closed the curtains at his own pace. The hole he left in his wake was almost a physical ache and her fingers tightened on cotton.

“You told me just earlier today that this might be okay. I'm sorry that I don't know anything! That's not my fault.” She inched closer, chest lightly pressing against him. Her eyes took on a sad note, unsure what she could say to explain herself more than what she had opening given from the beginning. He was fairly aware of who she was and how she acted going by her family's history. He had been around more and more and was smart to see the little things about her. He knew, and yet he was still being this way.

“ _The_ _one_ _thing_ _I_ _do_ _know_ _is_ _that_ _I_ _want_ _you._ _”_

He sighed, hands floating up to dislodge her grip, resting there when she refused to let go. “Samara. There is nothing to apologize for. I am not comfortable with this. That's all it is. I did say that there was a possibility for such occurrences, but I'm not too sure that it should be gone about in such a manner. I don't want you to regret anything.” His lips tilted. “You're a special person Samara. You deserve the best of everything, not some hasty evening you may not remember in the morning.”

Her hands shuffled from his shirt as she squeezed his torso. “You always seem to have the right words for everything! Why do you always manage to get me to do whatever it is you want?”

He steadied them, arms hovering for a second until he heard the sniffle and then lightly went around her. Hugging her wasn't new and this wasn't even the first time today that they'd embraced. He looked to the top of her head with a small smile. A hand rose and lightly patted her head. “I don't know what you mean Samara. I think you're merely emotional from the drink earlier. Come now. Please let go so we may both get some sleep.”

Her head jerked up, meeting soft blue. “Are you sure you won't join me? I don't mind.”

“ _When_ _you_ _have_ _needs_ _and_ _I_ _am_ _available,_ _then_ _I_ _would_ _accommodate_ _you._ _”_

He was a gentleman, but still a man. A deaf man would understand her body language and a blind man would understand her words. A beautiful, half-naked woman who was asking him to climb in bed with her and teach her how to use her body to satisfy both of them. Had he been a lesser man he would've succumbed to her flirts and pretty words. But she meant more to him than some mere trifle of an evening which, should fate be so willing, they may actually experience some day. He respected her too much to be so uncouth. He doubted she would fling herself at him as such if she knew exactly what she was doing. Going by her usual personality, this really was unlike her.

“ _I_ _think_ _it_ _would_ _be_ _best_ _if_ _we_ _avoid_ _letting_ _things_ _go_ _any_ _further._ _”_

He steeled himself, using another hand on the chains. He waited until the cage stopped swinging and he felt in charge of his emotions again. His hands floated up to her upper arms, finding them around the loose shirt and lightly gripped her. He carefully and slowly walked her back until they stood in front of his bed. He helped her sit down and leaned over her, fingertips hovering on either side of her legs. He met her eyes, seeing hers widen a little perhaps in anticipation and uncertainty. His face softened in compassion. “No.”

He straightened and took a step back so she could move her legs. “Now, please get under the covers. Do you need any water?”

There was a loud bang of a door being closed in her face. It echoed in her ears and took the edge off what she was feeling enough to take a small calming and disappointed breath. Her eyes drifted to the floor, staring at the carpet around his feet, idly taking in the hue of his pajama pants. Her shoulders felt like they fell miles down as she slouched forward.

Arms suddenly made their way into her downcast vision and her face jerked up to find him kneeling, hands lightly shuffling past the shirt and grabbing a wrist. It moved her arm up until she found the sleeve of his shirt and started moving it in. She mechanically finished the motion and he immediately repeated himself. Once done, he stood again and tugged on the blankets enough to get her to move and she went on autopilot.

He leaned over to smooth out the edges and locked eyes with her again. “Rest well Samara. I'll check on you in a few hours.” He made to turn when cool skin latched onto his. He looked down over his shoulder, brow rising.

Her mouth opened and closed. She sat back up, not letting go of his hand, eyes not leaving his. Her jaw clenched a little. He had closed whatever window he was looking through. There was no way she could unlatch it from the outside place he had put her in. She looked away with a quiet sigh.

He kneeled again and rested a hand against her cheek, moving her face to his when she stubbornly refused to look his way. She looked openly unhappy, frustrated, and so many other emotions he could read. Sorry wasn't in there though. “Good night Samara.” He murmured. He gave in to a small whisper from something in his head and leaned forward. His lips met her forehead in the briefest of touches, a way to soothe her irritation so he could apologize later if necessary. They could talk things out in the morning if she remembered anything.

Considering she was going to sleep in his bed, tomorrow was going to be interesting. He wondered how she'd explode over it.

He waited till she laid flat against his pillow, eyes still on him, before turning off the lamp and standing. “I'll be back to check on you later.” Step. “I'll leave my door open in case you call for me.”

“Charles...I -” Her mouth snapped shut, pausing him before he could take a step down on the stairs. He looked at her and waited, face even and patient. Her lips curled bashfully, all of the events running through her mind. She was touched at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you. Good night.”

His lips tilted. The chains stilled for just a moment. “You're welcome Samara.”


	3. in the eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If he weren't lying down, he would've cradled his head in his hands with a stereotypical sigh. The urge to get up and pace, to move and redirect this uncertainty, this tinged anxiety that made him want to tap his fingers, was mounting. He was restless and sleep wasn't going to give him peace from the torrential downpour that were his thoughts and emotions.

The bed adjustment was cold and he had never slept in the guest room. Of all the excursions in his own, he had never taken the spare room after a night of lust in order to be a gentleman. Eva and Miss Rosewood had never bothered to stay long enough to keep the bed warm before heading out. They had what they wanted, as did he, and they left. It was what was arranged for everyone, what he had mostly stipulated.

And yet, in this moment, thinking of those times, they felt cheap and almost foul. They felt so far away from the cool exterior he always exuded. Those women, as special as they were in their own way in the agreement they shared, were still nothing to him.

Not like her.

He looked to the boring, plain walls, the dark windows across from the bed. The clouds illuminated behind a full moon gave him something to stare at in the gray darkness. The evening had been such a rollercoaster and yet it still wasn't over. It wasn't something he ever thought he would arrive at. There were things they needed to discuss in the morning, perhaps over an apologetic breakfast if he had the items she liked.

If he weren't lying down, he would've cradled his head in his hands with a stereotypical sigh. The urge to get up and pace, to move and redirect this uncertainty, this tinged anxiety that made him want to tap his fingers, was mounting. He was restless and sleep wasn't going to give him peace from the torrential downpour that were his thoughts and emotions.

He had done the right thing. In his heart and his head, he knew this. It was hard to walk down those stairs, but he felt like they would have been worse off for it in the end had things not changed. He worried for her, not for him. He was no stranger to the curves of a woman, but Samara...she had never felt the touch of a man, let alone the admiration he bestowed on her. She gave off enough of an angelic innocence that it felt hard to approach her with the experience he had. She had asked for it, but he was hesitant to acquiesce to her requests.

He sighed and looked to the blackened ceiling, lips tightening a little. No...it wasn't just her. She was, in the grand design of their conversation at the restaurant, another one of his becoming encounters. They had even hedged around the beginning of the setup he had fleshed out twice now. He didn't want to create that with her, though his repeated words in the car felt more like a barrier than the conditions for a meeting.

His past wouldn't let him be, but he wouldn't leave it let him be.

Samara was everything he lost years ago. Her naivete, sweetness, encouragement, trust, and purity were something he never thought he'd find, let alone work right next to. She had been there with him, walking in and out of that office every day and he had just now bothered to peel back the layers of everything she gave which awarded him more than it did her.

His jaw clenched a little, exhaling loudly in the quiet. The chains rattled quietly, disturbed in their hushed prison which he had neatly locked away as usual. They almost seemed to test the waters, to see if they could rage again with such abandon, but he wasn't going to let them. It was too dangerous and things were safer with those strong metal links helping him every day.

It was better. Better not to feel like he had before.

The Young family made it so difficult to stay behind the fortress his heart was comfortably cowering in. Seeing Samuel with his wife, helping Samara with so many things, and letting her get close to him. The abused organ saw the sparkling light of a blue sky on the horizon, trying to peek out of the constant cloudy skies he lived under since that day he moved from his homeland. It would get blinded by those occurrences with Samara; the hugs and her timid eyes. Her honorable words chipped away at the stone walls and try as he could to repair the bricks of sadness, loneliness, and regret, things didn't stay long before she kept up her attack on his defenses. He rebuild them again and again as a habit, but it had become too tiring as of late to keep up the pristine look of harrowing thoughts.

Never before had a hand been so clearly held out for him to take. The innocence behind her smile, the simple happiness of a coddled life and fantasies of whatever she thought things were like, beckoned him. He could only stare at her shining light in skepticism, not being able to believe that such a creature of high magnitude was willing to give him everything. To trust him with everything. To let him direct her as he saw fit with no ill will and no consequence.

It wasn't the first time that she questioned her worth to him whenever he retracted an action or a word he started in his tired state. So many times when her hand insistently extended, quietly telling him to take it, he reached out before he could remember what still smothered him. Of the real chain he carried in his pocket during so many work days. The one he loved whom he just couldn't let go of. A person who had been so special and irreplaceable...had been. Before Samara opened her arms and genuinely smiled his way, his thoughts strayed to the past as a reminder and contrition.

It was a plague in the beginning, but after a few years slipped by and a new country challenged his normal ways, thinking of that fateful, terrible afternoon was more like looking at a scar which had never healed properly. On a good day, his detachment to those disgusting noises in that room, feeling his eyes water as his heart shattered into a million pieces, didn't feel as painful as it had in that moment.

He huffed and quickly rolled to his side, upset with himself for humoring his mind when he had more important things to worry about in the morning.

Weakness, regret, hope, dreams, faith. She was all of those things as he told her that day in his office. She was so small in his arms and it was sad to have it come to an end. Being able to be close to her was more of a salve than he ever thought it would be.

He supposed indulging himself in what could be, in giving her a little of what she openly told him she wanted, was also something he missed. She thought he wasn't serious, but he had been frank in every action and word. Meaningless flirtations which meant nothing came easy from him. Perhaps somethings he had gone a tad overboard on a few instances, but it was difficult to consider the emotions of others when he had forsaken his own.

In tending to her feelings, he ended up coming face to face with his own. He found he didn't like it much.

It was too scary to let go. Why be burned a second time on a chance which he would never recover from after knowing he still hadn't recuperated from the first? Gweneth had caused years of damage which was still affecting him. Samara was applying the bandages as fast as he was ripping them off, relishing in the sting it caused every time.

Indifference had gotten him through many a harrowing night alone in the beginning when he shouldn't have been. It had become a good friend and ally when he packed his bags and got on that airplane for The States. It quietly coached him into a new job and bedding two women. The days and nights passed by quicker, the nights a little more palatable when he was buried in the skin of another woman. Their cries of pleasure initially echoed the ones he heard and it was hard to separate them. He pulled impassivity tighter around him; blocked his ears to everything except what he wanted to feel. It was safer that way and now it was a habit.

Samara was cutting that lifeline he so desperately needed right now. She had torn down an entire wall to his fortress, peeking past the walls and finding his bewildered heart staring at her smile in confusion and trepidation. His heart just stood in that place he made for it, an abused thing unsure of the happiness presented to it. The few times he looked away during some of their moments and caused misunderstandings was from his unwillingness to go in the moment and accept the joy she inspired in him.

It was just so easy to give in to her. To yield physically and emotionally. She made it so natural. She gave him everything every second of the day and he wasn't used to it. After so long of shoving it all away, a new prospect had him fidgeting. Had him busying his hands as his mind whirled. Pushing back in denial of a probability. It was a leap of faith he wasn't ready for.

And she said she wasn't either. Her own words of not being with anyone long-term were a reminder that none of this was serious. She called him special, but this was still similar to what happened with Eva. An attachment was forming and he didn't want to let himself get too close. He cut Eva off for that reason.

He rolled over with a despondent sigh, wishing a clearer answer could be found. He didn't like being on the precipice of such a dark canyon. There were no clues to help him and try as he could to find answers, nothing presented itself.

'Special'. It was a precious sentiment that he didn't think he'd hear. The look of confusion she gave when she said that, as if he doubted his worth to her, was more endearing than he let on. Those words struck the center wall of his castle and threatened to topple the whole thing. Despite her sentence of not dating anyone, she still wished to learn about the world. Wanted him to teach it to her. He felt a stab of honor at the notion.

He played in his mind what-ifs and could-have-beens. What if he hadn't walked away? What if he had pulled the covers back, still in them, and invited her in? Acquiesced to her strong words and was willing to look past her state? To take that shirt off however she wished and delve his hands through her hair? Thoroughly kiss her with more passion than he had given her the first time around?

He jolted up in bed, hearing the chains rattle as his heart picked up speed a little.

He finally gave in and his face fell toward his hands, fingers gripping his bangs as if to help the inner grip on the chains that he took a few deep breaths through. This was maddening!

His fingers parted enough to let him look past the open doorway of the small room, ears perked for any noises coming his way. He hadn't brought his phone and there was no clock in the spare room. What time was it? How long had it been since he left the sanctuary of warm sheets and the usual dent of his pillow? His fingers clasped together twisting a little tighter than he felt was needed. The chains clanked again to his inner annoyance.

Maybe it would help to check on her? Calm his mind a little to know that she was asleep. He said he was going to do so after all... He didn't even need to do more than peek his head past the floor to find her. Once he tuned into the lump in the dark, heard her sleeping breaths, he could return to the spare room in safe knowledge that she wasn't ill nor in dire straights. His thumbs rubbed against each other in his indecision. He stared out the windows, wishing he knew how far the moon had shifted since he arrived.

Decorum told him it would be okay so long as he was quiet. It was his place and he knew every inch of it after having lived in it for so long.

What if the darkness wouldn't allow him to stay away? If he felt compelled to see details up close, he surmised his fingers would betray him and want to brush against her cheek in that hungry need to feel the connection she extended to him. Even this far away she beckoned him to be near her.

No. It was a bad idea right now. He was too irrational it was best for both their sakes that he stayed away. Needing her in any sense wasn't right when she hadn't slept off everything. Perhaps when the dawn peeked through he could awaken early and check on her. He did need to get his clothes for the next day and his bathroom was connected to his room after all.

There would be plenty of time to check on her. Now was not a good time. He rearranged his grip on the chains, took a resolute deep breath and laid back down. Later. Later would be a better idea. He would sleep some of his own despondence off and be sure to awaken in a few hours like he said originally. He nodded a little and rolled away from the bedroom door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a thought last night in looking at a comic called "Grand Room" on Twitter by @_teallatte! Go read!! \@q@/  
> I think there's more to Charles than we've ever seen yet. I feel like I can relate to him a lot from this chapter in how it's scary to let go of the hurtful past and trust new people emotionally. Hubs actually went through 90% the same thing with his first wife that Charles did and I feel like Charles will be fine with time...once he chooses to heal.  
> 


	4. oh so real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He chuckled at a reaction he'd seen from others. She was a sleeping lioness and he knew better than to disturb one in the wrong manner. He looked to the lack of flesh showing from her dress and mentally wondered where he should go next, what he should do next. “I would hate to disappoint you Samara. If you'll permit me, I will continue.”

_Work was never ending. It seemed like no matter how many employees they had, the business didn't stop piling up. He supposed that was a good thing. Work meant pay and he didn't hate his job, his eccentric boss aside. It was just tiring when he needed to stay a little later than most had put in their normal eight hours. Such was the only gripe about being upper management._

_The sun cast a nice glow into his office, his desk near the near floor-length windows. It was hard to see the screen of his laptop and he finally sighed in annoyance, unable to turn the brightness of his screen higher to get around the sun. The window shades that were installed were already down, but they were simple black blinds and slivers of light still got in. It was just irritating enough when he tried to focus on documents he was trying to finish up as fast as possible to get out. Why did this one seem so more frustrating than others?_

_Just a few more to read, then he'd be done and could go home for the night. Maybe rest his tired eyes which had been utilizing their poor blood vessels for too many extra hours. What he wouldn't give to have fencing class tonight so that he could work his arms. His chin rotated in order to flex shoulders which had been slightly hunched against the office chair armrests._

_He didn't remember the last time he'd gotten up to use the facilities, let alone any water. He took a second to stretch and found his legs needed the extra blood flow. Deciding on a small break, he stood and leisurely stretched before heading around his desk for the closed door. He opened it to silence, but wasn't surprised. He hadn't bothered to check the time, but sunset usually meant almost everyone should be gone for now._

_He meandered down the hallway around empty cubicles, finding the water cooler and grabbed a nearby cup. He easily drained the first portion and filled it a second time to take back to his office. His loafers didn't make much noise on the way back across the carpet, but what tried to peek through was comforting in a small way for company. The quiet should have been creepy, but to him it was a friend. Lucy's desk was empty, but Samara's door was cracked with the light on._

_His brow ticked up at that. He was unaware that she was still here, but he had been sitting and focusing for hours so he hadn't checked in with her for the evening. She never made mention that she was leaving and he had been too busy to query a ride home for her. He quietly peeked closer, hearing clacking and heard quiet muttering. He wanted to push the door open and see what she was working on so fervently that she was still here past her usual ending hour, but she startled easily and he didn't want to disturb her when she seemed deep in thought._

_He hesitated at the slight crack, curiosity wanting to get the better of him, but he forcefully shook himself from the need to know and headed back to his office. She had her own reasons for being so late and while he was interested in what they were, he wasn't going to pry. He didn't remember her saying anything at all recently about what she was working on and he knew when she was ready she would come to him._

_He put the cup on his desk and sat in the plush chair again, wishing he was further into the document than he left it at when he took his break. His fingers lightly clasped around each other and rested on the armrest as he idly looked at it. Not even a minute into the next work trek, his eyes strayed to the door he left open. He didn't think to close it because there was no noise to block out. He looked back to the document and took a deep, resolute breath to get back to work. No matter how much he didn't feel like doing this right now, his innate workaholic tendencies always got the better of him._

“ _I_ _thought_ _I_ _saw_ _your_ _light_ _on_ _in_ _the_ _hallway._ _”_

_His eyes jerked up at the soft voice, one he knew all too well. Dare he say so well he could pick it out in his dreams. He sat back with a smile, mentally happy for the company and interruption. He emotionally closed the program in his mind for a much better thing to focus on. “Good evening Miss Young. You're working rather late, aren't you?”_

_Green. She was in a green dress flattering her figure rather well. His eyes wouldn't stop jumping to the slender legs peeked out under her knees. The ties at the waist. The straps hanging at the edges of her shoulders, so dangerously close to falling off equally slim arms._

_Samara smiled and took a few steps into the office. A piece of paper was in her hands. “I wanted to get this finished and to you as soon as I had it done, but it was more complicated than I thought. I wanted to get it just right before I presented it to you.”_

_His work could've been shoved off the desk and he wouldn't have noticed. It was entirely forgotten as he watched her stop near his desk and looked to the slightly crumpled and rolled up papers in her hand. “You have my attention Miss Young. Would you like to sit down?”_

“ _I_ _would,_ _but_ _I_ _don't_ _see_ _any_ _chairs._ _”_

_His brow furrowed and he closed the laptop to see past his desk. Surely he had at least one extra chair across his desk for personnel? He stood and looked around to find none in sight. Had the cleaning crew moved them out of the room? How had he missed that all day?_

_He moved away from his chair, hand extended in invite to use. “Please take my seat Miss Young. I apologize for the lack of other furniture. I'm not too sure where they ended up.”_

“ _Oh_ _that's_ _fine._ _I_ _don't_ _want_ _to_ _take_ _your_ _only_ _chair._ _I_ _can_ _just_ _sit_ _here._ _”_

_He shuffled back as she neared, taking up residence on the curved edge of his desk before he could question her nearness._

_He was stunned and slightly speechless. He hadn't considered her to be so forward, but he mentally shook himself and looked to her. “What is it that you wanted to discuss with me?” He went for the chair again, feeling odd at standing and yet not fully comfortable with sitting._

_She twirled a little more to face him, one leg crossing over the other as she leaned over the free hand for a second. The hand holding the paper roll held up like a trophy. “I have a great idea for a project for a new client I think we can get. It's kind of...personal, but I see a lot of room for improvement with the platform the website uses. I'd like to have you look at it. Do you have time now? I didn't interrupt anything did I?”_

_He quickly jerked his eyes to her face when she finally looked his way. The angle of her arm swept gracefully toward her chest, leading in to the sweep of her unbound hair. The sunlight caught on her glasses and partially hid her eyes in the glare. She smiled at him, holding out the roll. “No Miss Young.” A hand moved on autopilot to take the papers, but she jerked them back._

“ _Oh_ _heck._ _I_ _think_ _I_ _messed_ _it_ _all_ _up._ _”_ _Teeth_ _took_ _in_ _her_ _lower_ _lip_ _as_ _she_ _unrolled_ _the_ _few_ _pages_ _and_ _tried_ _to_ _flatten_ _them_ _the_ _opposite_ _side_ _over_ _a_ _thigh._

_He watched in silence, unable to pick his brain up. He tried to find the right words to ask for the project she had printed out, but he stumbled too much to be able to speak. A hand finally reached out, grabbing a hand when she pressed into her leg as if pressure was going to help. “Miss Young. It's okay, really.”_

_Her motions paused and she looked at him. She looked to their hands, attention suddenly on his fingers covering most of her hand. “Your hand a lot larger than mine.” One hand let go of the paper and turned._

“ _You_ _do_ _have_ _very_ _small_ _hands._ _”_ _He_ _found_ _himself_ _saying,_ _skin_ _attuning_ _to_ _the_ _feel_ _of_ _her_ _fingers_ _touching_ _his._ _His_ _hand_ _turned_ _on_ _reflex._

“ _Are_ _they_ _that_ _small?_ _”_

_His lips twitched. “You won't be playing piano concertos by Rachmaninov any time soon.”_

_Something felt off and he rotated their hands again. It was the one with the scar, though it looked much better than before. “How has your hand been healing?”_

“ _It's_ _still_ _a_ _little_ _sore._ _”_

_He was getting a sense of deja vu as his thumb came up and caressed the injury. “Is that so?” He felt his heard race a little more as he looked to her and lightly kissed the scar. “I hope that this helps it heal.” He murmured, hand barely away from his mouth._

_Her hand didn't jerk away in embarrassment and she didn't move. He stared at her, transfixed with her dark eyes that seemed to cloud over just a little. She was red in the face, as she almost always was, but the usual stuttering and shaking was absent. They were frozen like that for what felt like heartbeats until her hand quickly pulled away from his and he felt a thread of trepidation. He had pushed boundaries too far with whatever good intention he may have. “Miss Young, I apologize. I shouldn't -”_

“ _Samara._ _”_

_He paused in the upward trek from the chair, brow going up as he met her eyes. “Pardon?”_

_She stood from the desk and faced him, leaning forward just a little. “I thought we discussed this already? It's Samara.”_

“ _I_ _apologize_ _Miss_ _Young._ _I_ _simply_ _refer_ _to_ _you_ _as_ _Miss_ _young_ _out_ _of_ _respect_ _for_ _you_ _and_ _your_ _family._ _”_

“ _I_ _would_ _hope_ _that_ _by_ _now_ _you_ _would_ _see_ _my_ _as_ _my_ _own_ _person_ _and_ _not_ _define_ _my_ _by_ _my_ _family._ _”_

_She looked more than adorable when she pouted just a tad as she was doing. The puppy dog eyes were a perilous combination with the almost too tight dress she was wearing. He swallowed harshly. “I...I apologize Samara. I'm not fond of the name Sam for my own reasons, but I know you don't like being called by your full name.”_

“ _Was_ _it_ _because_ _you_ _were_ _divorced?_ _”_

_He startled, head jerking back a bit. “Samara, what...? I'm not too sure I understand what you mean. Why would you bring up such a topic?”_

_She looked down, a bashful look on her face. “I...just thought that...it was because of that.” Her eyes looked strong as she met his. “I don't care about any of that though. Please don't think I do.” She took a small step forward. “I...I don't mind it if you call me Samara.”_

_He leaned back a little, offset by her random behavior. Samara was often a strange person with her own quirks and eccentricities, but he didn't remember her ever acting so erratic. “Are you alright Samara? Your behavior is rather odd, if I am blunt.” A hand reached out as if to help, but was left hovering between them with nothing to actually do to assist._

“ _Well,_ _you_ _know_ _I_ _can't_ _lie_ _in_ _front_ _of_ _you._ _I_ _guess_ _I'll_ _have_ _to_ _be_ _honest._ _I_ _hope_ _you_ _don't_ _take_ _it_ _the_ _wrong_ _way_ _Charles._ _”_

_He gave an encouraging smile, hand lightly resting on her shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about from me Samara. Please speak your mind.”_

_She reached up and lightly clasped his fingers, entwining them. She looked to them for so long, was silent to the point he wondered if she remembered that he had spoken. He knew that while she often times had trouble speaking her mind, she always did in the end. He let her do as she wished, not sure about how to act in front of her in this second. It was somewhat unsettling because he thought he knew what to say, but this was unfamiliar and he wasn't very sure about this sudden development._

“ _I_ _wanted_ _you_ _to_ _see_ _me._ _To_ _see_ _more_ _of_ _me._ _I_ _wanted_ _to_ _show_ _you_ _more_ _of_ _me_ _than_ _I've_ _wanted_ _to_ _show_ _anyone_ _before._ _And_ _maybe_ _turn_ _your_ _head_ _a_ _bit._ _”_

_His eyes had widened as she spoke, torso leaning back the smallest degree. His lips parted, closed, and opened again in any attempt to speak. “Samara...I'm sorry but -”_

_She was suddenly hugging him. “I can't more rejection Charles! Please don't reject me. You always push me away!”_

_He steadied the two of them, knocking his chair a few inches back to the window. She was small in his arms and while they had embraced before, this was different. There was no apology involved. His heart raced, apprehension in his veins at her demeanor. “Samara? Please. I don't understand what's going on. Are you alright? Please explain yourself.”_

_He expected words, but received lips instead. It was hard with their notable height difference. He was too stunned to move, arms lax as she gripped his neck to pull his head to her height. He felt her wobble a bit, probably on her toes to raise her as much as possible to him. His arms came out as a sudden surge came over him and secured her against his torso. He lost himself in the kiss before logic clobbered him over the head and his hands grasped her arms to pull her away. “Wait! Samara! I -”_

_She heaved a sigh and looked at him with a slight glare. “Charles. Either finish what you've started or stop playing with me. Don't tease me.” Her hands tugged on his neck. “The one thing I do know is that I want you.”_

_His heart jumped in his throat so hard that he hardly felt her lips on his again. He was unable to respond for heartbeats as he tried to process such a strange turn of events. It didn't make sense how a normal day at work could have him now kissing a co-worker he admired in more ways than one._

_Something deep down struck him, hit him through every vein he possessed and set a chain reaction throughout his limbs. His arms finally responded and tugged her close, pressing all of those ample curves against him. She went willingly, arms latching around his neck as if to keep him there._

_As if he could pull away from her._

_The feelings that bubbled up as she kept meeting his embrace, apprehension and uncertainty were not there to tear her away from him and visa versa. She usually would have moved away, but she also initiated many of their embraces in the past. He never thought she would have done such a thing, but he wasn't going to complain and complicate things._

_His hands dared to roam outside their original confines against the dress she had on. It started as a twitch, the barest inching in both directions. His fingers experimented with the boundaries he was already aware of, what was always sketchy and hard to define. His hands, always much larger than hers as they just discussed, splayed wide and seemed to cover most of her back. The pads of his fingers itched to do more than just take a snail's pace and pressed into her back just a little. She softly moaned into his mouth and the encouragement was all that he needed, all the open door he could quickly walk through._

_He could easily tower over her by merely standing next to her. Their height difference was notable and he was already forced to stoop in order to reach her lips. He pressed a little further, eyes peeking open at their position to locate his desk. He moved her back until she gave a surprised cry at locking her backside with the edge._

_He pulled back with a smile, looking into eyes that seemed to turn almost black behind hooded glasses in the poor sunlight. Her chest heaved against him and it sent off energy currents in his blood. His heart rate accelerated in response and he felt his control slip just a little._

_He sat on the desk, legs open just enough to let her stand between them. “Samara.” His hands floated up to her arms as she stared at him with a powerful smile that spoke of how much she enjoyed the kiss. She inched closer to him, able to put her arms on his shoulders and did so. He felt his heart pick up at the sassiness he found he enjoyed very much. His eyes darted to her lips again. “You wanted me to teach you. I find I cannot deny that request.” He murmured with a smile. He closed the gap enough to feel her breath on his face and it spurred resolution to his words. “Where should I begin?”_

_She looked down, grin turning slightly timid. “I...don't know Charles. I'm too inexperienced in this.” She suddenly turned serious. “Just...touch me Charles. I want to know what you feel like.”_

_He harshly swallowed at that, but the thrill of such an open invitation from that bold request hit him square in the chest. “Very well Samara.” He nearly breathed, heart hammering and breathing becoming slightly shaky. He watched her bite her lower lip in expectation when he didn't make a move and wanted to replace those teeth, but had a sudden idea. His hands moved from her arms and swept her loose hair to one side. He was so much taller than her that it made it easy for him to find her collarbone without much exertion to his back._

_Her head lolled back, but his free hand there to catch it and cradle it as his lips blessed her skin with his attention. Virgin land in more ways than one for him to claim with his mouth and tongue. The thought struck his head so much in such a powerful blow that he felt the weight of his understanding flow through him with a heavy sense of responsibility. His ribs seemed to constrict as the feeling assaulted him and took over._

_His fingers toyed with her hair, gently winding it through his fingers and crawling to the edge of her scalp as he applied the slightest amount of pressure to the back of her head, arching it just a little more. She went willingly with gasps at his ministrations, arms twisting at the base of his neck. She mimicked what he had done and ruffled the style of his hair, what he always kept prim and proper. It fell forward a little over his ears, tickling his forehead._

_Her noises spurred him on, poured strength into his arms just a little more than he intended. When she seemed to attempt to get in more air than she probably needed, he pulled back a little in concern for her general welfare. He was privy to her inhaler and didn't want to hurt her. “Samara, please let me know if I need to stop.”_

_Annoyed eyes snapped open and pinned him with an incredulous glare. “Don't you dare!”_

_He chuckled at a reaction he'd seen from others. She was a sleeping lioness and he knew better than to disturb one in the wrong manner. He looked to the lack of flesh showing from her dress and mentally wondered where he should go next, what he should do next. “I would hate to disappoint you Samara. If you'll permit me, I will continue.”_

_She stepped forward enough that she lightly touched his inner thighs, dangerously close to disturbing him more than he ever figured she would. Her forehead rested against his, lust brimming from her eyes. “Please do Charles.”_

_He claimed her mouth again, tongue stroking her lips. She quickly exhaled and her lips parted, giving entry. He found her tongue and slowly tried to teach her the art of a french kiss, feeling her clumsy attempt at doing so. His hands rose and cupped her cheeks, swallowing her petite face with his much larger hands. He decided to stay like that, to just enjoy the second he created for them. He was in no mood to rush, to hurry her. Teach her, let her learn as long as she wanted. He had all the knowledge she was seeking and he found he was happy, ecstatic even, to indulge her._

_His hands slowly fell down, caressing her skin. His fingers were in as much of a hurry as his mouth was and it seemed to take forever to reach her shoulders. He noted how smooth her skin was, how the hair tickled his fingers. The brush of cotton helped him realize his destination to her arms, but he wasn't going to stop there. Feeling bolder than anything and a need to warn her, he pulled away from her lips enough to speak. “Samara, if you feel uncomfortable with this, let me know and I'll stop immediately.”_

_He claimed her lips before she could speak, knowing she would if she felt the need to do so, and brushed his fingertips an inch south of her collarbone. She squirmed a little, moans greeting his worry, and silence was his answer. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, fingers soon drawing circles over his muscles. His body tuned in to those two spots as much as his mouth was memorizing the feel of hers. His nerve endings were torn on where to go first. The feel of her legs nearly pressing in his lap. The heaving chest he was still slowly dancing down to something even better. The light touch of her own fingers on his business shirt. The speed of her tongue as she became frenzied from his affections._

_He wanted to watch his hands as they toyed with the impressive cleavage line she presented. He was given that chance when she pulled away, head falling forward with closed eyes. She panted as he let one hand do the majority of the work, drawing some random pattern over the top of her cleavage, slowly heading around one side. His finger followed the outside trail of her dress to stop at the center of a breast._

_Her cry of pleasure was music to his ears and he wished to hear it again. He circled the spot he pressed, hearing her whimper and bite her lower lip. He watched her face for signs of discomfort, but found none. “Samara. Open your eyes and look at me.”_

_The red on her face nearly swallowed lascivious eyes that pinned him to the spot. She notably shivered as his other hand repeated its original actions and paused. Her chest moved almost violently as she tried to catch her breath. His brow furrowed a little as his eyes remained fixed on her face, a small warning bell going off._

_He halted, waiting for her to catch her breath, but after a few deep inhales it didn't go down. His hands retracted instantly and he leaned back, feeling something cold poke up his spine. “Samara. Are you alright?”_

“ _Ch_ _–_ _Charles..._ _”_ _She_ _coughed_ _weakly,_ _leaning_ _forward_ _against_ _him_ _as_ _if_ _losing_ _the_ _ability_ _to_ _stand._

_The pleasure he had been letting wash over them fled in a second to be replaced with trepidation. He was well aware of asthmatic attacks and he had seen her have one before. They weren't pretty and quite worrisome. “Samara.” He quickly stood, hands gripping her upper arms. “Where is your inhaler?” He looked around as if she had brought it into the room with her. “We must go to your room and get it. Is it in your bag?”_

_The volume of her gasping for air seemed to raise. It filled the room and assaulted his ears. He felt helpless and it overtook him in an urgency to help her breathe. He cursed the chances she let him take when he didn't consider how delicate he knew she was. Her own father had made sure to ask if he was certified in CPR during the interview._

_He stood, blood running cold at the inability to be able to move. His grip on her arms increased, fear coursing through him at the thought of needing to actually practice CPR on her to keep her with him. He had to do so for Benjamin and it wasn't a pleasant feeling. To touch her in the same spot with a different purpose that he had just been doing made his attempts of touching her breasts seem filthy. “Samara? Samara!”_

“Samara!”

He jolted up, feeling panicked and his heart racing impossible speeds. He gasped for breath in the same manner as she had, unable to stave off the anxiety coursing through his veins. Near wild eyes darted around the room to find her, finding the barest traces of morning creeping through the uncovered windows. “A...dream...” He breathed, face going into his hands. Deep breaths of relief left him.

A dream. It was just a dream. Thank goodness!

His emotions swallowed the details, but he could clearly tell it had physically affected him. He quickly tried to regain his wits, taking deep breaths to calm his body and return his erection to nothing.

He scoffed at his own behavior, trying to shake the fear that still had his adrenaline going and his heart pounding despite his gulping in air. Her coughing and wheezes still echoed in his ears, rapidly overtaken by the screeches of those he held in the cage. It banged against the walls and swung so wildly he thought he would be assaulted by them all at once. That they would all retaliate at once and overthrow his stoic rule after so many years, leaving nothing but an emotional wreckage in their wake.

He harshly swallowed, going for the water glass she left untouched on the nightstand. He drained it almost in one gulp, chest heaving for air that still wasn't quite under control. The glass was harshly thunked back on its resting spot as he hunched over crossed legs, cradling an exhausted head in his hands.

He felt dizzy. He was so overcome that it was hard to think, let alone rationalize what just happened to him. Why did he dream such a thing??

'Be honest with yourself Charles...'

Kissing and touching a woman who had become so much to him in such a short time. It wasn't hard to piece together what he could still recall in his half-awake state. He recollected a few phrases that she had already told him while awake. The hugs, the dress...it was all too easily stored in his memory. His departure from his room earlier must have left him in more of a chaotic state than he thought. Considering how hard he had to hold onto the chains of control, it wasn't shocking.

_But, you are special to me Charles._

In that second of emotional chaos, he redirected that sentiment she had said earlier that afternoon right back at her.

His eyes snapped open and stared at the windows across from him. He stared at the dawn starting to peek through and lighten the surrounding area, using it as anything to help wake him up and take his mind off what just happened. He heaved one final deep breath, feeling the rush leave him weak and shaking, but his heart slowed to normal proportions at last and allowed him to settle to reality at whatever early time he was now in.

Silence greeted his ears once the chains stopped clashing around. He looked to the doorway and the wall across the way for what felt like forever before a hand grabbed the covers without mercy and threw them from his legs. He stood without a second thought, unlike what he warred on before falling asleep, and steadied himself. Once he was able to take a step out of the hell he slept through, he left the spare room and marched to his room as quickly and quietly as he could.

He didn't stop once his sight could peek past the floor to his bed. He felt like he had run a marathon despite his physical endurance to such a meager task as climbing one set of stairs. His heart had picked back up, ears attuned to any change in the atmosphere, as he padded over the carpet. He didn't stop until he was at the edge of the bed and kneeled at her waist to see up close for himself that she was fine.

He stared at the slow rise of her chest under his covers for what felt like forever, needing to see it this time if only to banish the nightmare to the depths of his subconscious forever.

It was silly really. It was only a dream, but the panic and asthma attacks she had over the proposal were real. He hadn't floundered this much then, but she had stirred his emotions more than he thought. He had even admitted earlier that she was a delicate person, though her entrance to his room belayed that thought a little.

A hand came out, needing physical reassurance as well to salve his emotions, and rested as lightly as possible on the top of her head to keep from waking her.

She was still out, probably from the alcohol. He wanted her to sleep for as long as possible before finding a sympathetic way to waken her for the morning. He still didn't know how to do that, but he didn't want to do so now when she would mistake where she was and panic.

After moments on the clock and his hand feeling the softness of her head, the soft breath on his wrist, he finally withdrew his fingers. He exhaled a quiet sigh, in much more control than he had been before the last twenty-four hours fell upon him.

The dream showed him a possibility he didn't like. It made rejecting her earlier advances much easier to bear. He didn't consider her asthma in any advance he had made to her up until now. Had he let things continue and do as he had in his dream, would such a thing happen in real life? He couldn't disregard the possibility.

He took a step back, almost violently shoving the scenario away. He wouldn't let anything like that happen. Nothing would occur with her until he was more than one hundred percent sure she wouldn't be gasping for air in his arms. His emotions couldn't even handle one nightmare; how would he deal with real life?

She wanted him to teach her. Before last night, he had halfway considered it. This morning, he was more resolute in saying no until he was comforted in discussing this discovery with her. He would never forgive himself if such a precious creature ended up in the hospital because of him.

His fingers twitched to caress her hair again, but balled into fists instead. He took a step back, quickly whirling for any other place in his home than here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did a lot of this feel like deja vu? That was the point for Charles.


	5. morning coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tried to figure out just what to say first, but the best course didn't present itself first in line. He sighed and sat back, a leg coming up to rest on a knee. “I apologize for possibly leading you on yesterday Samara. I realize that after everything which has been blooming between us, the alcohol may have prompted you to act on whatever feelings I instigated in you. While I don't regret anything I have done with you up until now, I was not willing to acquiesce to you based on what you had ingested after dinner.”

Her head hurt. It twinged mercilessly in random spots as if it couldn't pick where to torture her first. A hand went over her forehead to try and swathe the area in order to heal it. Her eyes squeezed shut against the twinges, a quiet groan escaping her. She rested like that for what felt like forever until something came to her.

There was a very familiar smell reaching her nose, but it didn't belong to her room.

It was nice and she breathed it in a few more times. Curiosity got the better of her, as did confusion. She didn't own anything that smelled this nice. What was that fragrance?

Her eyes peeked open to a muted glow. Her brain woke up enough to recognize sunlight and she rolled over toward it. She expected to see her windows, or any room in her apartment, but nothing presented itself to her.

What?!

She jumped up in bed and quickly fell over from dizziness. “Oof. That was a mistake...” She mewled, covering her eyes with the palms of her hands.

Where was she?! What happened last night??

'Think. You had dinner with Charles and discussed...discussed...th – things...' Her face exploded with heat as she recalled the conversation about her experiences with the world. 'There was some kind of coffee that I had... Charles was there...'

Her eyes peeked open when the dizziness subsided, but not the dull throbbing. The place she was in was open and full of windows. There wasn't much furniture and what was there was impeccable. The curtains went from ceiling to floor to conceal windows just as big. There were two closed doors on either side of the bed she was in. At the thought of her resting spot, she looked down to the blankets covering her legs.

Revealing the shirt Charles gave her.

She yanked the covers off her chest, seeing her underwear and realized she didn't have skirt on. She shrieked a little and her face heated like the sun as she thought to how she got into a bed that wasn't hers with half of her original clothes. She stared at a set of stairs, fogged images uncovering themselves.

“ _I_ _want_ _you_ _Jones._ _”_

“ _Samara,_ _you_ _are_ _far_ _too_ _drunk_ _to_ _know_ _what_ _you_ _are_ _doing!_ _”_

“ _Touch_ _me._ _I_ _want_ _to_ _know_ _what_ _you_ _feel_ _like._ _Please._ _”_

“Oh my G - god!” She burned her fingers as her face plunged into her hands. Did she sleep with Charles?! How did that happen?! She remembered the porn she watched and touched her legs and breasts to check for discomfort. There was nothing and nothing felt odd. Her brow furrowed. What happened after she got up here?

“ _Please_ _let_ _go_ _so_ _we_ _may_ _both_ _get_ _some_ _sleep._ _”_

“ _Are you sure you won't join me? I don't mind.”_

“ _No.”_

The fact that only one side of the bed was rumpled was clue to two possibilities. IF Charles had been in the same bed with her he had either made it when he exited early or he hadn't at all. If he denied her so adamantly as she was starting to recollect, she bet he found somewhere else to sleep.

“ _Nice ass Jones!”_

“I'm dead. Kill me now...” She moaned, feeling she would burn her fingers as her face went redder. Fingers squeezed around her forehead, not helping the headache she still had. “Wh – what...what did I do?! I'm s – such an idiot!”

“Miss Young, are you awake?”

She jumped and screeched a little, yanking the covers over her head as if it would help her disappear. Silence met her outburst and she finally peeked her head out of the confines.

Charles was standing halfway in view, hand on the railing. He was his usual impassive face, hair back in its usual combed-back business coif. He was already dressed for the day, white business shirt and tie neatly in place. She could smell faint traces of his cologne from here and realized it was what she smelled earlier.

His brow rose as she met his eyes across the way, still unable to force words out. What did she do first, apologize? Beg for mercy? Ask for an explanation despite how she didn't want to hear it?

“How are you feeling Samara?”

She twitched and quickly looked to the bed, unable to get her face to cool off. “M – my head hurts a little.” As if to accentuate her words, a few twinges made themselves known again and she squinted against the pain.

“I put a glass of water on the nightstand for you. You're probably dehydrated from the alcohol.”

At the mention of water, she realized just how dry her mouth was and she almost inhaled the whole thing. She didn't stop until it was empty and then took a few deep breaths.

At the sight of her working on getting her breathing back in control, it set off the dream he had tried so hard to forget and his hand clenched a little on the railing. “I made coffee as I figured you may want some once you woke. Is there anything you usually eat for breakfast? I can try to fix something for you if you're hungry.”

She took up his bed and he was offering to make her food? She felt like a heel. “Charles, you really d – don't have to make me b – breakfast! It's okay! I p - probably already put you out enough as it is!”

His face softened a degree as he forcefully pulled himself from the upset an hour earlier. “It's no trouble Samara. There is still enough time for you to get something to eat before I drop you off at your apartment for a change of clothes.”

She immediately looked down to his shirt and unbuttoned the top. Cleavage met her view with the barest traces of a white shirt keeping her dignity intact. A strangled noise came out of the back of her throat as she whipped impossibly wide eyes his way. “D – d...did I...we...you...I'm so sorry Charles!”

His head shook slowly, lips tilting. He assumed such a reaction and he wasn't disappointed. “There is nothing to apologize for Samara. Nothing happened aside from a mistake at the restaurant it seems. You are not at fault here. I will go ready you a cup of coffee while you make yourself presentable.”

She blinked and suddenly tuned in to her skirt almost blending in with the near black blankets. She quickly snatched it and looked his way but his hair was the only glimpse she saw before he was gone. She smiled, heart warming at his giving her privacy to do what she needed despite how she must have tempted him last night. She heaved a sigh, wanting to bury her head in her hands at how horrible she must have treated him. “I must appear like some hussy...” She bemoaned, quickly slipping into the skirt. “Although, after everything we've done up until now, I suppose the shedding of one's clothes is the next step? That's what some of those sites showed anyway...”

She didn't get a few steps to the lower level before the smell of coffee almost guided her to the kitchen area. She took in the tall space, finding it a mix of wood, concrete, metal, and sharp angles. The fireplace between the living room and dining room was fascinating in its basic design and open pipe going to the ceiling. It was a lot to look at, but in a good way and she turned a few times as she admired the design. It was so full of windows and light spilled in from almost every wall. She smiled; somehow the whole thing fit him well.

“Do you take anything in your coffee Samara?”

“Eep!” She jumped and whipped to the voice, watching Charles walk to her with a cup filled over halfway. Her eyes widened in appreciation and she took a step to him, hands out, but he set it on a nearby glass table instead. She faltered, fingers curling in dejection, wondering if he was upset with her for how she acted. She wouldn't hold it against him in the slightest. “Charles...I'm sorry if I upset you last night with my behavior.” She blurted out, looked away.

He blinked and took a drink from his own cup as he studied her for a second. All of the disregards he had thought he would need to say jumped the forefront, ready to be used. “There was nothing wrong with your behavior Samara.” He gave, taking a step away so she could access the cup. “I don't know why you're apologizing again when I already said it wasn't necessary.”

She went for the handle, staring as the liquid settled. “Ah...w – well...I held my hands out f – for the cup, but you put it on the table instead.”

His lips twitched at the simple misunderstanding. “The coffee is hot Samara. I would not forgive myself for burning you unnecessarily so. Now...would you prefer anything extra in it?” His free arm swept to the kitchen he had just exited. “I have cream and sugar if you prefer.”

She smiled and nodded, taking a step toward the other room. “Thanks. I'd like both.”

The kitchen was interesting, with all of its dark counters, wood cabinetry, and stainless steel appliances. The room design was rectangular, but well placed for easy access to everything across from each other. The space was very open, but she didn't see the fridge anywhere...at least until Charles headed to a large wood panel and pulled the door open to reveal its hiding spot. She waited for Charles to place everything on the bar counter for her to use, not wanting to be so brazen as to rummage through anything. She put the sugar spoon back in its container and poured the cream to agitate it a bit before taking a drink. “Ah. That's much better.” She looked his way with a beam. “Thanks for the coffee. I really needed the pick-me-up.”

He smiled and stepped around her to the small dining area. “Would you care for a seat?” He queried, arm extending again in invitation.

She had fully intended on sitting down to chat with him about what happened and clear the air, but a sight greeted her a few feet away and her curiosity got the better of her. “Can we...maybe go out there?”

He turned to the where she was pointing and nodded. “The patio is fine. Please follow me.” He opened the door next to the table before she could, swinging it open and getting out of the way for her before closing it behind them.

The view was gorgeous. The immediate area was huge with an extensive outside couch and chair set lining the railing. They were a few floors up and she quickly put the precious coffee cup on the center table before leaning over the concrete wall to see below. The city was waking up and bringing its noises to her. “This is amazing! Your apartment is very interesting.” She looked over her shoulder with a smile. “It matches your office.”

He was content to watch her act like an excited child at an amusement park, quietly soaking in her enthusiasm. A brow ticked up at her words and he swallowed his coffee for verification. “How do you figure?”

She took up the spot she had been kneeling on and grabbed the cup. The morning was a little chilly and she was thankful to have his shirt on over her t-shirt. The thought of wearing his clothes, combined with the elephant in the room, had her blushing all over again. “W – well...your o – office is very...geometrical and the wall art reminds me of the wood and dark boards in the dining area.” She mumbled, quickly taking a drink before she felt more like an idiot with more words. “I really like the design. It's fascinating.”

“I'm glad you like it.”

She felt awkwardness quickly interject the swift quiet and she sipped her coffee with no good way to bring up what happened aside from blurting things out. She was too scared of his reaction and words to be so bold.

Nothing outside of the usual then.

By the time she had chugged half of the cup, she felt like she had to say something. She kept her vision to the contents, stealing glances at him and finding him watch her. It never dawned on her that she wasn't wearing her glasses until she noted that she couldn't see his eyes as clearly as she wanted. “Ah! My glasses!” She jumped up in her seat, heading for the glass doors when a hand on her arm stopped her.

“I have them with me Samara.” He released her arm and pulled them out of his shirt pocket. She took them and slipped them on. “You left them in the spare room last night. I'm more amazed that you were able to notice only now that you weren't wearing them. The prescription is noticeable.”

She looked his way, fully getting all details around her. A brow rose. “You looked through them?”

He shrugged and took a drink. “Call it simple curiosity. I believe you're aware of the feeling.” He looked over the rim, finding her fumbling for words again. “I also wear glasses, but my vision is not in as extensive a need as yours for spectacles.”

She bashfully grinned and tucked loose hair behind an ear. “Y – yea. That's one m – main reason why I take the bus.”

He gave a thoughtful hum and set the now empty cup on the table in between them. He looked to the blue sky that did a good job of matching his eyes and relished the quiet between them, even though she was openly nervous. Having her in his apartment was a random idea he only accepted when she almost made him crash in his original attempt to bring her back to her own place yesterday. It was quaint to have coffee with her here despite the fact that she was perturbed about what had happened to bring her to this point. There had been no other until now that spent such extended time with him outside of the bedroom and he found he liked the ambiance. He had lived alone for years and while it was normal to do so, the intrusion was also highly welcomed.

“S – so...about l – last night...”

His eyes darted to hers, but they were on the glass she cradled in between her hands in her lap. Her shoulders looked painfully hunched up to her ears and he wondered if it actually hurt to do that so high up.

He sighed when she didn't speak after a second and leaned forward to lean his elbows on his knees. “There is nothing to worry about Samara. Your behavior was a little uncouth, but nothing happened. You came into my room and I helped you into my bed. I took the spare bedroom and used the extra bathroom this morning to get ready. You need not worry about your chastity nor any ill effects toward me.”

“B – but I cl – clearly remember s...slapping your butt!” She blurted out, face mimicking the sun. Hands covered her eyes over her glasses, feeling mortified all over again. “I can't b – believe I d – did that!”

His lips tilted. At the time it was exasperating, but now it was merely amusing. “It was just the alcohol Samara. Don't judge your actions too harshly. You weren't aware of what you were doing.”

“B – But! I s – said I -” She paused, mouth clamping shut. “I mean...you...that I w – wanted...you a – and...”

He tried to figure out just what to say first, but the best course didn't present itself first in line. He sighed and sat back, a leg coming up to rest on a knee. “I apologize for possibly leading you on yesterday Samara. I realize that after everything which has been blooming between us, the alcohol may have prompted you to act on whatever feelings I instigated in you. While I don't regret anything I have done with you up until now, I was not willing to acquiesce to you based on what you had ingested after dinner.”

Her head tilted to the side, brow going up. “Does that mean...had I not h – had that drink...you...you would've -”

“Had you not had that drink, you would certainly not be here right now.” He smiled. “However, I believe we already discussed this at dinner. While I had my hesitations, I have also never seen you so...passionate before. It may have been an argument in your corner.”

Her face heated. She looked down to the shirt and lifted a baggy sleeve. “Did I...really t – take off this shirt in f – front of you...?”

“You did not get fully undressed Samara, but you did shock me last night I will admit. It was certainly an brow raise at your abrupt change in behavior.” He grinned.

Her head fell to her hands again. She didn't know what to do, to say now. She was quiet and he was thankfully as well for a bit. She had finished the coffee and had nothing else to occupy her hands or allow her to compile her thoughts in silence while she drank. “So...last night being what it w – was...what do we do now? If how I acted helped m – me out...d – does that mean you're not going to q – quit?”

“ _Does this mean you're not going to teach me anything? I was hoping you would've.”_

It was on the tip of his tongue to repeat his dissent that he already gave at the restaurant, but he couldn't do it. He took in the way she was propping herself forward on her knees, how she steadily met his eyes only just now. Last night ran through his mind, as did the better parts of the dream.

Samara was hesitant, but he could tell that when she went after something she was strong and resolute. The continuous questioning look in her eyes that never left his told him this. After all of the mortification she recalled, she was still wanting to try. He could tell from her body language alone.

“ _We could acquiesce to our baser emotions and allow the situation to develop organically.”_

He knew that if he agreed to take that extra step forward to her and take the hand she was reaching out, then press it against himself, there would be no way to look at her as he had been months ago. He didn't know if she could handle an office romance, even though she never seemed to think about such things before now. He could easily shut her down and tell her that they should just be employees despite everything that had gone on between them. It would make for a hard door to lock, but it wasn't impossible. He was skilled at treating others he knew intimately as strangers when the time called for it. Rosewood was prime example.

But...to hear those moans from his dream played out in real life... It was tempting, but as he said in the restaurant, her inexperience might be too detrimental to her for him to create their shared time together.

She still met his eyes, waiting for his answer and he sighed, unable to see into the future in order to help him make a proper decision.

“I have already said my peace in the car over this. After last night though, I will open it up to you and let you make the final decision. You are aware of all of my stipulations and what we would share together. I invite you to take some more time to seriously think about this before making a proper decision. It could be life altering for you. I will accept whatever you settle on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The link for Charles's apartment is:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3v0z3oJF7p8&list=WL&index=39&t=63s
> 
> Thank you Almighty Mongie! <3  
> Can I live in Charles's condo? It's ballin!! O.O


	6. upon heavy consideration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life altering huh? She tried to picture what would happen if they took that step and added physicality into their lives. How would she handle seeing him naked in bed and then go to work next to him the day after? Her face flamed and she almost dropped the leash. She had been awkward when he gave her the shirt off his back not that long ago and although she felt she had come a long way with his help, thinking about it now still affected her, but more in an erotic way than simple discomfort. He could easily stoke the fire she had been encountering for so long.

She practically hurried out of his car once they reached her place. She paused long enough to bid him a short farewell and waved as he drove off. It gave her a physical outlet to all of the tension running through her. She heaved a sigh, which helped release some more in the short-term and looked for another catharsis in the stairs.

She was huffing by the time she got to her floor. It wasn't intentional, but her feet kept moving faster on their own accord and her arm was pulling on the railing and propelling herself as if possessed. She leaned over on her knees to catch her breath, shivering a little in the morning chill. It got her going the remaining paces for her door so she could cover up all of the exposed skin. A twinge of worry speared her as she realized she hadn't taken care of Bowser last night and didn't call upon her landlady to help! He needed to go outside and get breakfast. She quickly unlocked the door, brows furrowing up. “Bowser! I'm so sorry! Let's take you outside right after I change.”

The quiet of her apartment and its usual quirks brought a sense of reality back to her. She looked around for Bowser when he didn't trot right up to her. The homey feel she gave the place jogged her enough from the turmoil roiling around since yesterday. The seconds altered the history in her mind and it almost felt like another dream she had, only Charles replaced the merged man with the whip. “Bowser?”

She headed to the bedroom, looking around the floor as she went. A lump in her bed brought a smile. “Bowser, I'm sorry for ignoring you all night.” She pulled the blanket back, finding a dog pout on his face. She smiled and picked him up to hug him. “I'm so sorry Bowser. I'll get you an extra treat today to apologize. Just give me a minute to change and then we'll take you outside to go poop.”

No damage was done and Bowser licked her a few times as if to agree to everything. She smiled and let him do it, hugging him a bit before putting him on the floor. She spotted his toy on her bed and gave it to him before tossing the t-shirt and skirt in the laundry. She stared at Charles's work shirt, a thought coming to her.

This was the second work shirt he had lent her. The second time he attempted to cover her up. The first time was because of decorum when her tank top had been ruined by coffee, but the second was in consideration for her welfare. Her lips tilted, a thumb running over the cotton a little. Either way he was thinking of her and did what he could to make her comfortable.

It was touching. He didn't have to. His comment in his bed about not being a gentleman if he acquiesced to her mood was both heartening and daunting. He had treated her well, but also dismissed her requests based on the same principal. It was going to be a challenge to figure out that part of his personality so she knew how to act around him. It was dismaying to be turned down as often as he had done to her and it certainly wasn't helping her courage any! She had no experience in the adult world and when she kept getting turned down by men whenever she tried to dip her toes in, it was only going to keep her away instead of steeling her resolve to try again.

He wasn't willing to sleep with her because she was drunk, but when she wasn't drunk he was still on the fence with doing so. He was willing to flirt with her and kiss her, but then pull away when they talked about doing anything heavier. He commented on the chemistry they were making, but never talked about himself willingly and seemed hesitant whenever she offered emotional help to him.

Her mind whirled with all of these thoughts, jogged only when Bowser barked at her. “I'm sorry Bowser! I'll throw something on right now!”

She didn't even really see what she grabbed, didn't change the bra she quickly covered up. She grabbed his leash and shuffled into a pair of flats before taking him down the stairs. She could think about these things during their walk. Right now, she didn't want him peeing on the carpet because of her muddled head.

The sun was shining and the clouds were absent from the sky. The park was its usual bustling self with joggers, dog walkers, and people hanging out with coffee. A usual scene that chased away last night to the point where she was beginning to doubt it even happened. It didn't help the ability to keep it in her mind; that it hadn't been another fantasy. That the whole batch of encounters with Charles wasn't in her head. That he did want her enough to be slightly intimate with her and let her consider taking the step if she had the guts.

She let Bowser sniff every blade of grass that he wanted in order to give her the time she needed to delve into this. Even though she had to be at the office today, this needed to happen. She was given the courtesy to make an actual decision.

“ _I invite you to take some more time to seriously think about this before making a proper decision. It could be life altering for you.”_

A thumb met her teeth as she pondered all meanings of that sentence. She blindly followed every tug on the leash and wherever it directed her, eyes on the ground so she didn't trip.

Life altering huh? She tried to picture what would happen if they took that step and added physicality into their lives. How would she handle seeing him naked in bed and then go to work next to him the day after? Her face flamed and she almost dropped the leash. She had been awkward when he gave her the shirt off his back not that long ago and although she felt she had come a long way with his help, thinking about it now still affected her, but more in an erotic way than simple discomfort. He could easily stoke the fire she had been encountering for so long.

Could she work next to him knowing she had seen all of him naked in a bed? That he had seen her naked? Her heart picked up with what she had seen of his torso, had felt his arms around her in the few hugs they shared. The kiss which transpired that almost brought his hand to her chest in attempt for more. She didn't care where they were in those times; she was ready to give in to what her body was asking for, what she hardly knew about, but still wanted. She let herself be pulled along the current that went through her every time, but Charles was more composed.

“ _I'm not a compulsive man. My actions were weighed and willful.”_

He always seemed so in control no matter what the situation. She was kind of jealous at how he could take everything in stride with a cool head. She called him perfect, but last night she did a good job of jogging his exterior. Her lips twitched on their own at the memory.

A twinge at that thought kindled a need she didn't know was there. She grabbed hold of the box it was in and looked into it.

What if she repeated last night? What if she rattled his cage? Would she make him uncomfortable? Would he like it? What would he say? Do? When she almost caused another misunderstanding after grabbing his tie, he gave in and went as far as kissing her. What could happen if she did more than wear a low-cut top and pencil skirt?

“ _You do make it very difficult to maintain a level of professionalism.”_

Excitement at the idea of finally turning his head as she wanted, of uprooting his business exterior, was tempting...so tempting. He could create a tidal wave in her with merely a finger raising her chin up and yet she still couldn't get such a rise out of him outside of trying to crawl into his bed half naked.

'Is he trying to hide it? We were at the office and he said that it wasn't the best place to be. Does that mean if I was at his place and not drunk that he'd agree?' She fingered her chin in thought. 'Ugh, this is so confusing!'

How would such a thing alter her life so seriously? Sure, up until now she never considered this until Link asked her out. Things seemed to fall in place after that. She was twenty-two already; it had to happen sometime she supposed.

The leash jerked and she snapped out of the reverie. She quickly grabbed her cell and jumped. “It's that late already?! I'm going to be late! Bowser, we need to head back now!” She practically carried him up the whole set of stairs to her hallway. It wasn't a good idea and she hurried inside as quickly as she could in order to grab her inhaler. She had a few hanging around for emergencies and snatched one off the kitchen counter, taking a few spritzes. She hung over the empty space for a minute to let the medicine work before feeling well enough to go change.

Squinted eyes looked to the almost non-existent bedroom hallway. Clothes...what would be good? Nothing short-sleeved this time so she didn't freeze in the office. Should she go with a pencil skirt again? It was so hard to walk in, but slacks weren't...weren't sexy. Teeth bit her lip as she ruffled through her closet. The weather looked promising to be warm enough that a thin sweater wasn't a good idea, even if it would help her survive in the office. 'Hmm...thick top and skirt maybe? It could help keep me cool...'

Hands finally found a dark gray shirt. It was long-sleeved as she needed, but the fabric was kind of thin to survive heating up. It was long enough to cover most of her hips, but the neck was baggy as the primary design point. She could actually take the bunched fabric and fold it over her shoulders if she wanted.

If she wanted to show a little skin and entice Charles with it that was.

Her lips pressed together, indecision keeping her hand rooted for what felt like forever until her eyes steeled and she yanked it off the hanger. So far, he had liked the green dress, the white t-shirts, and who knew what else. He called her stunning and lovely, and it sealed the deal. The color was boring, the pattern too muted in its dark and slightly dark grays peppering the fabric. But it clung to her a little in the arms and at the waist and that was probably the important part. After her hand was fixed, his stern lecture in the car on her attire was more about how it didn't fit her than the color choice she settled on.

Her eyes turned to the armoire across from the closet as she considered another skirt. She was wary of one with extra fabric in case it blew up on her again, but was kind of worried about wearing one at all after last night. Thinking of how she took it off in her drunken state would only remind her every time she had to take shortened steps. She had a job to do after all and couldn't afford to be reminded of how brazen she acted.

“ _It could be life altering for you.”_

She heaved a sigh, taking off the short-term clothes for Bowser's walk and hurried to the shower. This was frustrating, but probably what Charles was talking about. She couldn't be like him who was so calm and collected what felt like every second of the day. She was too involved with her emotions, although she didn't consider it to be a terrible thing.

She grabbed the shampoo bottle, trying to hurry through her usual cleaning routine with a still-muddled head. 'Yes' was so easy to say, but so was 'no'. The safety of 'no' meant they could go back to being co-workers, just as he said. She could just take the assurance he stoked in her and work more comfortably with him. 'Yes' however...

'Yes' meant a new world. New feelings. New sensations. They kept coming on her more and more, mostly unknown to her, but she had at least figured out their origin. While the general idea of being with another man provided sparks for the fire, Charles provided more than enough kindling in order to set a blaze going. Almost too good to where she was at the point of considering a regular sexual encounter with him.

A towel went around her torso with one covering her hair. She had never been concerned with how her hair looked and thus didn't have anything good to put it in. No special braid designs, hair clips, or other accessories. She stared at herself in the mirror and looked to her shoulders and neck. She was pretty thin from a lifetime of inactivity and resting in a hospital bed. She never thought it was a part to accentuate, but thought to the shirt. If she got too hot for whatever reason, or no reason at all, she could fold the extra neck fabric over her shoulders and show off a part she was somewhat at ease with...

She quickly dressed in the shirt and pair of black tights, folding it over her shoulders and looked at herself in the mirror. She grit her teeth and tried to reassure herself that it fit okay, that it looked okay, and that she wasn't overdoing anything by folding the fabric down. It didn't seem to stay very well, but she did agree with herself that it was a safe spot to show off. It didn't flaunt as much cleavage as the t-shirt did yesterday, but it did flatter her figure.

'Is it going to be enough? Will he like it?' Her lips pressed together. A hand grabbed a chunk of her hair and put it up. Her eyes steeled a little and she headed back to the bathroom. She grabbed a hair tie and put as much up at the base of her neck as she could.

A hand pulled the medicine cabinet mirror out of the way and reached in for the small makeup bag.

“Monica said this was old, but I don't have time to go out and get anything else... This will have to do for now...” She closed the door, taking a deep breath that she didn't poke herself in the eye again. “Maybe if she's okay with it, I could buy some of her line from her?”

“ _It_ _may_ _all_ _be_ _a_ _terrible_ _idea._ _I_ _think_ _it_ _would_ _be_ _best_ _if_ _we_ _avoid_ _letting_ _things_ _go_ _further._ _”_

She heaved a sigh, looking at her eyes and hoping she did as good a job as possible. She put the mascara wand back in the bag and closed the door again. He was come and go, hot and cold. He would say and do the opposite things so often that she had no idea what he was thinking. Not that she ever did, but when she embraced him those few times, the looks on his face were not always positive. She supposed she made him think of his ex-wife, but that was never her intent. She wanted to give him comfort, an apology, or to make him happy.

The needle was bouncing around between 'yes' and 'no'. She exited the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. She was almost entirely covered, but still felt more brazen with clothes that fit her properly in all the right places. She was wearing makeup that Monica said had expired because she never used it. She was trying to emphasize simple points to make him sit up and take notice.

“ _You_ _know_ _the_ _best_ _way_ _to_ _get_ _over_ _a_ _guy?_ _To_ _get_ _under_ _another_ _one._ _”_

Is that what she really wanted? She didn't have anything to draw history on for further consideration, but all of her actions since the green dress were indicating it. She was doing all of this for one person whom she admitted more than once she wanted to show his attention to her. It made her heart beat wildly, but it felt good.

The needle nudged its way a little closer to 'yes'.

Did she want to continue this? She supposed she'd have to go through a day of work and see if she could keep her cool while being his assistant and figure out if she had the ability to separate work and pleasure. So far, she was doing an absolutely lousy job of it.

Speaking of work...

She squeaked at the time and ran to her closet for a pair of flats. Thankfully, no tight skirt got in the way of hurrying out the door. She shouldered the usual bag and tried to lengthen her stride instead of running. She just showered and didn't want to get all disgusting before she even showed off anything! She didn't want to end up using her inhaler in the bus in front of everyone, even though she did feel like the attacks were showing up a little less than normal. Was it part of his 'handiwork'? A positive side effect from the self-love exercises? She'd be happy if that were the case because she couldn't even handle being tickled without having an attack.

She looked to her phone with a sad look. 'I won't have time to stop by Link's shop and get coffee. I'll just need to get some at work if Charles doesn't roast me for being so late.' She put the phone back in the bag, lips pressing together. 'Although...I had a few cups at Charles's place already...'

It felt really weird to think that. She had stayed the night in a place that wasn't her own and had coffee there. It was a new occurrence, but she rolled it around in her head and found it didn't bother her as much as everything usually did. She went back to the early morning, almost dawn even, as she boarded the bus. She let the memory overtake her, from when she woke up in his bed, until stepping out of his car and watch him drive off.

It was nice to have his company and she was sad when he pulled away for the office. He was kind, sweet, a good conversationalist, charismatic, and nice to look at when she was next to him. She liked his cologne, as she once told him. Waking up to the smell wafting around his room felt nice inside.

'Ugh! This is maddening!'

She didn't know how she was supposed to come to a decision when she couldn't stop thinking both ways! Compiling a list of pros and cons wasn't easy when she was entrenched in her emotions since yesterday. The feelings that cropped up were delectable and washed over her the entire ride. She actually jolted to awareness when the bus stopped at the office and hurried from her seat, totally not paying attention. She stepped from the bus and paused at the main doorway, looking down at herself and taking a deep breath.

Somehow, she was going to do this. Whether she liked it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shirt idea I took off the internet; it doesn't belong to any fanart or Mongie's drawings that I've found yet.


	7. yes or no

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She hardly heard him over the blood rushing in her ears. She stared frozen as his ministrations, feeling his breath on her fingers. It made the hairs on her arm stand up and a shiver go from the top of her spine all the way to her toes. Her mouth opened to say anything when his eyes went as high as they could from his bent stance, but she couldn't get anything intelligent out, let alone coherent.

Going to work was absolutely pointless. She didn't know why she just didn't call in sick to Lucy and turn her phone off all day so Charles didn't contact her with questions or concerns. It would have been as productive and only a change of scenery for the curtain of emotions blinding her to what she should have been doing all day.

There was a twisting in her stomach whenever she thought of the entire day leading up until she left his car that morning for her apartment. It felt like something was sitting on the bottom of it and it was unpleasant. But it had to do with Charles and what they had shared, so it was enjoyable in its own way. It had her biting her thumb through morning emails. She was going to be near him all day, having to interact with him after almost wanting to climb on top of him in a drunken state that needed serious satiation.

The more she obsessed over the details that uncovered themselves in her memory, the more she hated having had that drink. Well, hate was a strong word. Had she not had it, as Charles said, she wouldn't have slept in his apartment that night. He would've taken her straight home and she would've done the raid as usual. But, it helped mess with her normal self and routine just enough to create this opening that she doubted she would ever have otherwise. She would've never been able to take off her clothes in front of Charles without some serious prodding first, if at all.

Speaking of the raid she missed...

Her phone dinged once and she grabbed it quick before anyone entered her room. The door was closed, but she didn't need anyone to think she wasn't hard at work, especially Charles. She had already fumbled past her greeting to him, pointedly making comments about how she needed to focus on work and didn't want to discuss anything when she was already late. He let her go upon her insistences, but she could tell he wouldn't have minded if they continued speaking. She wasn't ready for that yet.

_Sam!_ _You_ _didn't_ _show_ _up_ _to_ _the_ _raid_ _last_ _night!_ _Are_ _you_ _okay?!_ _You're_ _not_ _hurt_ _are_ _you?!_ _You_ _never_ _miss_ _raid_ _night!_ _We_ _didn't_ _want_ _to_ _dungeon_ _without_ _you,_ _so_ _we_ _canceled._ _Dallas_ _complained_ _like_ _the_ _newb_ _he_ _is,_ _but_ _Abe_ _put_ _him_ _in_ _his_ _place_ _and_ _told_ _me_ _to_ _find_ _out_ _what_ _happened._

She grimaced, wondering just how she started to explain herself, let alone what to say that didn't sound horrible. She couldn't even figure out her own problems not to mention trying to explain them to Angela with her history of men. She didn't need her friend trying to assault Charles.

_I'm_ _so_ _sorry_ _I_ _didn't_ _show_ _up._ _Something_ _happened,_ _but_ _I'm_ _fine_ _so_ _please_ _don't_ _worry._

_Okay,_ _when_ _you_ _put_ _it_ _like_ _that_ _I_ _totally_ _worry!_ _Can_ _I_ _call_ _you_ _right_ _now?_ _I_ _need_ _a_ _better_ _explanation_ _than_ _that!_

She looked to the closed door, then the clock on the bottom of her laptop. It wasn't anywhere near lunch and she didn't want to get behind. She stared at the text history, brain whirling.

_I'm_ _actually_ _at_ _work._ _Can_ _it_ _wait_ _until_ _later?_ _It's_ _nothing_ _something_ _I_ _want_ _to_ _go_ _into_ _detail_ _while_ _on_ _the_ _clock._

_Text_ _me_ _as_ _soon_ _as_ _you_ _get_ _off_ _work._ _Let's_ _meet_ _up._ _You_ _pick_ _the_ _spot_ _and_ _Vikki_ _and_ _I_ _will_ _meet_ _you._

She smiled at the affection she felt. She loved her friends and was glad for their supportive presence in her life. Angela wasn't pushing her, but she figured it couldn't hurt to discuss this with her. They did give the porn websites to help her, even though the snowball effects had more changes than they foresaw. She didn't hold them at fault over it though. She asked for their aide and they complied. They didn't know the Pandora's box they'd unlock afterward.

A knock startled her and she dropped the phone, cursing her inattentiveness. She leaned down to get it, bidding the person entry as an arm stretched into the foot space.

“Miss Young, are you available for a moment?”

She jerked and jolted in the chair, arm swinging to find the desk to help her sit upright faster. She misjudged the angle and knocked her elbow on the edge.

“OW!”

Charles hurried into the room at the cry of pain, swinging it closed behind him as he rounded the wood structure. “Are you alright Miss Young?”

She hunched into herself and mewled, eyes squeezed shut with a grimace as tears formed through the pain. She took a few deep breaths to help ward off the uncomfortable tingling going through her arm. She shook from it all, hand gripping the spot. “Y – yea...I th – think...so...”

Soft hands reached out and cradled her arm. “I apologize for you injuring yourself. I didn't mean to startle you.”

Dark eyes peeked open, a few tears escaping as she watched his thumb lightly massage the area. She winced a few times and he applied even less pressure to the point that she hardly felt anything move. She met his eyes, wanting to be more mortified after all they'd shared, but it still hurt too much for her to care. He didn't hesitate to touch her and she mentally noted that.

“Does that feel better?”

That he was here? Yes. That he was touching her? Definitely. Her heart thundered, face heating through the streaks on her face. The look on his face was contrite, his eyes concerned. He kept up until she told him to stop, but she didn't care if he kept going. He was here and he was holding a part of her. She felt better at that more than he was trying to aide the absence of pain.

She remembered he spoke and was waiting an answer, but all she could do was nod a little. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, feeling extra warm and was happy she didn't wear anything heavier to the office despite the air conditioning.

His lips tilted a little as he leaned back a tad. “I'm glad to hear it. I didn't come in here to have you injure yourself on my behalf.”

She smiled a little, not bothering to pull her arm from him and he didn't let go. She wondered if she should move first, but she honestly didn't want to. “Sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen.”

“As did I.”

A hand floated up and gently wiped one of her tears away with a finger. His smile was kind and her heart warmed.

The needle took a hard dive to 'yes'.

“Charles, I -” Her mouth clamped down at what she almost blurted out. Now was not the place to discuss this and every time they delved into the topic, things got out of hand. The day was barely half over and she had to make it through! She didn't want the decision to coming down in a burning mass of flames and regret.

“ _You_ _are_ _going_ _to_ _do_ _something_ _you'll_ _regret!_ _”_

“Is something the matter Miss Young?”

While there was a lot of stuff she felt she regretted, looking back on it was more of because she floundered and let it pass her by. So many things she missed out on because of her upbringing, her birth, her father's overbearing parentage, and her nativity. She over-thought so much and talked herself out of things. She had so many what-ifs on her list and she didn't want Charles to be another simply because they worked together and his previous uncertainty crushed her hope.

It was a bad idea to instigate this. They both had a job to do and he probably came in here to discuss business, not last night. But, she knew it wouldn't leave her alone until she cleared the air between them and answered his request. It hadn't left her all day and as Umed once said, once she got interested in something, she obsessed over it. “Ch – Charles...I...” She took a deep breath for courage, mentally steeling herself and telling herself she could do it. “I've...been thinking...”

It was easy to see what she was struggling with. He placed her arm in her lap and leaned back, slowly standing. “I apologize for interrupting Miss Young. I came in to discuss your proposal with you. Since you worked so hard on it, I wanted to make sure the presentation was as you wanted before I put any final touches on it.”

She hopped to her feet, heart thundering in her throat. She watched him turn away, knowing he was probably doing it on purpose. “Charles, please!” A hand reached out and grasped the white cotton on his arm and he paused.

He turned to look at her, making no move to tug away from her grip. “We're on the clock Miss Young. I think now would be a bad occasion to get an answer out of you. Such things should be kept until after the day has ended, lest we end up being enthralled in another escapade.”

“I...I know that it's b – bad timing.” She looked down, brow furrowing. “But, I've been th – thinking about it all day. I can't h – help it.” Her lips briefly pressed together. “I don't think that I can move on until I give you an answer like you w – wanted me to do.”

He sighed a little and turned, hand tenderly dislodging her fingers. “Miss Young, while I am also awaiting your answer, I am content to be patient. I didn't enter your office looking for that. This is one of the reasons why I did hesitate. If you can't keep life and romance separate when you are at work right now, it will be difficult for you in the future if anything bolder occurs between us. I told you that it may alter your life. Do you really believe you can do such a thing if we take another step forward?”

Her lips pressed together. He was crushing her courage to do this. She wanted to speak her mind. She knew she'd feel better once she did so. It wouldn't take more than a few minuets and then she could focus as they needed to. She just knew it!

“Charles...please just t – tell me... If...” She paused, teeth biting a lip for a second. She looked to as far down as she could, eyes landing on the thumbs she was twiddling together. She harshly swallowed and looked into his eyes again, feeling herself tremble. “If I was able to d – do those things that night...and it changed your m – mind a little, does that mean you'll...t – teach me? If I say yes? B – because I do. Yes...I want this.”

“ _The_ _one_ _thing_ _I_ _do_ _know_ _is_ _that_ _I_ _want_ _you._ _”_

It had been in his day, it had been in his dream. Those were powerful words that contradicted how she was acting right now. She had the ability to find the strength to say it to his face without alcohol in a public place. He stared at her in silence, finding her beet red yet meeting his eyes in all seriousness. She was shaking, hands wringing together as she waited for his answer, and yet she was looking him in the eyes.

His lips formed a smile before he could think to do so.

“I did say that I would accept whatever you settled on.” He quietly recalled, hand floating to her cheek. He cupped it and looked down, watching her eyes widen a little. “While I have my reservations, I understand where your hesitance comes from. You have shown me that you can dish out what is being given to you and that is promise which I can work with. If you truly conceive that you can handle this, you will have my participation.”

Her heart hammered in her chest, breathing picking up. The gravity of his words hit like a sledgehammer low in her stomach and her nerves jumped off a cliff. Her breathing picked up triple times as her body registered how close he was, close enough to hug and kiss. She trembled at the thought, mentally preparing herself for the hope.

It set off another asthmatic attack.

He quickly released her when her breathing didn't go down. Horrible deja vu hit him and the dream returned. He looked around for her bag, but didn't immediately see it. “Samara, where is your inhaler?”

She jumped to, yanking open a desk drawer and plopping the bag on her desk. She fished around for a second before clasping the lifesaving device and put the bottom half in her mouth.

He felt his blood run cold as his dream replayed itself, a better ending this time, but still scary all the same. The panic he felt this morning brought an echoing screech as the cage rattled precariously. The chains clinked and he lost his grip on them for a split second as he watched her chest heave in attempt to get her breathing under control. The clench in his chest was unbearable and he felt helpless to do anything else.

His finally hands rose on their own and lightly clasped her upper arms, a need to touch her in reassurance that all was well and real. “Are you alright now Samara?”

“Y – yea... I'm sorry.” She mumbled. She looked to his dress shirt, feeling horrible for making him worry.

“Such a thing concerns me Samara. At mere words, your fervor caused you an asthmatic attack. I'm afraid that more will occur if I attempt to teach you anything. It makes me want to rescind my words despite your own conclusion.”

He was meeting her eyes, his own serious and disapproving. His hands rested where they first landed, though neither of them made a move further to the other. She felt like a child whose toy was broken in front of her and pouted a little at it.

Damn her cursed body! She never liked having lungs which never developed properly inside a mother's womb, but there was nothing she could do about that. She could strengthen them a little to where she wasn't panicking over every little thing, but it took time and she didn't know how long she'd have to put things off.

They had been a little less frequent lately though. She wondered if part of the attacks were brought on by anxiety rather than lack of breathing practices. If Charles had empowered her over the last few weeks with that little self-love experiment of his, surely a few intimate excursions could have just as good an effect? She looked away, hand going to tuck hair behind an ear self-consciously, but then realized she had tied it all back and there was nothing to fiddle with.

His eyes strayed to her neck and shoulders at the action. He noted the muted colors she wore yet again, but was drawn to the petite shoulders and short neck she was showing off. Her bangs fell in front of her face as always, but the bun she had scooped up did a good job of accentuating the tiny ears she usually hid. He looked at the design, taking in how well it fit and accented things without being gaudy or showy. She was the perfect dichotomy of hidden beauty and his lips twitched. “Is this perhaps another attempt to grab my attention?”

Her eyes jerked to his. They widened to find his gaze a little lower than her face and she flushed again. She mentally prayed that her lungs held up as her heart rate spiked again. She harshly swallowed and nodded when he finally looked at her.

His smile rose a little more. A hand reached down and took one of hers, lightly holding her fingertips in his. He curled their fingers as he brought it up just a little, lips lowering to meet it. “It's good to see you heeded my words yesterday. It also looks very nice on you.”

“ _I_ _don't_ _like_ _the_ _idea_ _of_ _others_ _being_ _able_ _to_ _see_ _so_ _much_ _of_ _you_ _too._ _”_

She hardly heard him over the blood rushing in her ears. She stared frozen as his ministrations, feeling his breath on her fingers. It made the hairs on her arm stand up and a shiver go from the top of her spine all the way to her toes. Her mouth opened to say anything when his eyes went as high as they could from his bent stance, but she couldn't get anything intelligent out, let alone coherent.

She had always been too much fun to tease and it was times like these when he indulged the both of them. Her actions were an open book and they were loud. Her eyes had clouded over a little and she was silently telling him how much she wished he'd do more. “This is what I had warned you against.” He straightened, helping her hand down until it was practically at her side and then released it. “You are certainly not shy about your expressions, I admit.” 

His words jogged the funk he put her through and she glared at him. He did it again! She wanted to stomp her foot at his behavior more than her own. Her lisp pursed, hands coming up to cross over her chest self-consciously. “W – well...I'm sorry if I'm so open...” She mumbled, face heating. She was thankful for the exposed shoulders as the only way to keep her face from burning to death. She spied a look at him over her glasses, seeing he was enjoying her misery as usual. “You d – don't seem too upset by it at least...”

He smiled and took a step forward, hands rising to just under her exposed shoulders again. “Forgive me Samara. It is true you're easy to vex and sometimes I can't help myself. I don't do it intentionally to irritate you.”

Her pout increased and she wanted to scoff at his words. “Pardon me for not believing you.”

He grinned, head tilting a little. The laughter she created wanted to bubble out of him, but he held it down as she seemed genuinely upset with what he had given in to again. A thumb came up and brushed against a shoulder, feeling her shiver noticeably. “Please don't be cross. I promise not to do it again if it distresses you so.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say yes, but so many of his vexations included touching her and turning her upside down. While annoying, it did help her to arrive at the emotions she was throwing at him all the time. He was reacting in kind and thus the situations they always found themselves in. “No, it...it's not that...” She murmured, looking away with her face hot. “Y – you just...did it again...”

“Again?”

“You...” Her lips pressed together. It wasn't that she couldn't say it, it was just that she didn't the exact phrasing to make him understand. Her eyes darted around the desk they were still next to as she thought back to all of the times he had overturned her and then abruptly stopped. “Your f – flirting. It...this seems to happen a lot.”

“What does Samara?”

Her hands waved around in exasperation. “This! These situations keep happening and then you end up touching me! I...can't help the way I feel, b – but...when you pull away...” She looked away. “I just...it doesn't really m – make me...feel any b – better.”

She looked sad. While her words weren't put the smoothest, he could piece some of it together. “My intention was never to toy with you Samara.” His fingers rose and moved her chin to see him when she refused to look his way. His look softened at seeing how sad she was, dare he say almost on the verge of tears over this. His brow furrowed a little at how she must have misconstrued many of his sentiments. “I am deeply sorry if you feel like I've led you on. I have never meant to do so. I apologize if anything I've ever said or done up until now has given you that feeling. It is so enjoyable to get a rise out of you and see that spark you keep hidden that I give in to the need to do so, but never to make you cross with me.”

He was sweet. He was holding with the barest pressure on her face that she hardly noted it was there anymore. Her face was so hot that she wondered if he was going to burn himself on her skin. She stepped back and took her face from his grasp, looking down. “No...I...it's p – probably me misunderstanding again. I have a bad habit of that.”

She was almost repeating her dejection within twenty-four hours. It was discouraging to think that one slight pull away would have her doubting every single thing that came between them. He finally rested a hand on a bare shoulder, a bold action that got her head whipping back his way. “Samara. If there is ever going to be anything to exist between us in any sense, I don't want you doubting yourself. I know it's difficult to voice what you require, but please have faith when it comes to me. You can say whatever it is you feel or need and I'll answer you. If there is ever a misconception that crops up, I will set it straight instantly.”

Her heart warmed and she nodded. Her eyes teared despite how happy she was that he was asking for her trust. He was giving honesty and asking for hers as well.

“Concerning what you wish to transpire between us, as I said, I am worried your asthma might make it tricky. But, I do remember your brother mentioning breathing exercises that you were supposed to be doing. Have you been following up on that?” She looked away sheepishly, shaking her head. “Perhaps the best course of action is to start there. I will test you on how well you react, outside of work of course, and we will proceed accordingly as to how you fair.”

He was putting the ball back into her court, but not taking it away before she could speak her mind. It was going to be annoying, but she if she wanted this then she needed to put in the work. If he was going to follow through, she needed to as well.

“ _You are worth the trouble.”_

So was he. And she'd show him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap this thing is evolving into its own emote-kun! I <3 it!


	8. help from friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samara's eyes jerked to her friend, widening a little. She never considered any wining and dining, but it sounded good when she rolled it around in her head. A restaurant wasn't really the best place to discuss intimacy, but they already did before she had that drink. The car wasn't really the best location either, even if it was the most private.

She practically sailed through work. While the morning dragged at a snail's pace, after her conversation with Charles about their new agreement and then fine tuning the last pieces of her project, she was on cloud nine. The smile wouldn't leave her face and she felt more empowered than she had since Charles started her self-love exercises. He left her to do work in her office with well wishes for the rest of her day, cracking the door open in case he needed to return and didn't scare her. She happily waved him away, hardly stuttering as she wished him success on his own paperwork and managerial duties.

When she met Vikki and Angela at The Daily Grind as a meeting point, she actually hugged them.

“Okay, while I like the affection, this is a definite attitude adjustment.” Angela pleasantly announced, pulling away to look at Samara. Green eyes took in the smile and positive attitude she could feel brimming over. Angela looked at Vikki who seemed just as happy. “Just what has you so ecstatic? I mean, meeting us is usually a good thing, but I've not seen you so bubbly outside of discussing gaming.”

She let go and chuckled a little nervously. “It's kind of a long story. One I think we should discuss a little more privately. I thought maybe the park across the street? Most people are going home for the day, so not too many are hanging around walking their dogs.”

“We'll go wherever you feel is best, Sam.” Vikki offered.

“Why did we stop in front of The Daily Grind though? Are we getting coffee first?” Angela's eyes strayed up to the name above the door.

“We certainly can, but I think I'm too jacked for caffeine right now anyway. It's just a good meeting place for us.”

Angela eyed her friend, brow furrowing in wonder. “We can just get right to whatever it is you wanna say then. You seem pretty excited about it.”

Did it seem like it that much? Samara went to put hair behind her ear again out of a nervous habit, but forgot she had swept it all away from her face.

“Oh. I forgot to mention that you look really cute today. You never have all your hair up and out of the way. What's the occasion?”

Samara bit her lip, though the smile didn't leave her face. Her heart thundered in the memory of Charles almost embracing her and she was suddenly contrite that it didn't happen in full. “That's kind of what the conversation is all about.”

“Then we'd best get started. After you Sam.” Vikki's hand waved to the vicinity of the park and followed when her friend took off for it.

Where to start first? There was so much that she had never discussed with her friends! The last she had ever hinted at concerning Charles to them was when she dressed up for the proposal after they commented on her clothes. They didn't know what it was really for and while she said it was because Charles wanted her to dress up to match the business style of the office, she never fully disclosed that it was actually to catch his eye. Perhaps she should add that finer detail into the mix.

It felt like twenty questions until she could properly organize everything. Both Angela and Vikki were patient as she started at the end, floundered, skipped around at the middle, then fought as far back to the beginning as she could remember. She had to include Link in the mix because he was also a factor in the whole thing. Had he not stoked the fire by providing the initial date inspiration and her wonder at more, she probably would have never considered him or other men in another light.

“Well now...” Vikki uttered, unable to say anything else when the fumbling for words ended and her friend looked toward the park area.

“I know it seems weird coming from me. But, I didn't think it would cause too much harm. I thought about it like Charles said and realized that I wanted this more than I thought I might.” Samara finalized, twiddling her fingers.

Angela met Vikki's eyes for a second over brown hair before redirecting them at her friend. “You're definitely entitled to your emotions Sam. I do think Charles is right in that it might be a good idea to share this with someone special, but that's your decision in the end. He does sound like a special guy to you though. I mean, if he's taken it upon himself to help you this much, he must see something in you to want to help you like he has been.”

Samara nodded. “He said he was doing it at first because he thought I was going to take over the company, but once I told him I didn't want it, he still continued.” Teeth nibbled on her thumb in thought for a second, brow furrowing. “He really doesn't have a reason to help me improve myself other than as a way to assist a co-worker in their job. But, he never had to accept those hugs or...k – kiss me.”

“But you mentioned all of those misunderstandings.” Vikki chimed in. “I think he's right in that it's important for you to be honest and trustworthy with him. You can't share such a powerful relationship with someone if you don't communicate.”

“I know. I just feel all tossed around sometimes when he puts his hand on my shoulder, or holds my hand, or lets me hug him and then distances himself right in the middle of things.”

“Well, everyone has their own baggage to deal with. It seems he has an issue with connecting to others.” Angela mused, fingers rubbing her chin. A leg bounced as she thought. “You said he was divorced and had issues with it, right? How long has he been divorced? If he got married so young like you found out, he could have been really attached and isn't over her yet.”

“ _I am a bit of a cantankerous old goat anyway. You would be better off giving your affections to another, less jaded man.”_

She never knew any details until a short while ago, but was too unsure on getting them from him. If he had that big of an issue with her simply knowing he was divorced, how hesitant would he be if she pressed him for more? While she wanted to talk about it, she didn't want to make him suffer it all over again if his ex was such a touchy subject.

But, if he wasn't over his divorce, it definitely gave a lot of clues as to why he accepted all of her endearments, but then pulled away. Carrying his wedding band in his pocket was one huge indicator. “Maybe he liked it more than he let on, but his previous loyalty wouldn't let him accept anything...” She mumbled, more to herself than them.

“That's unquestionably something you should discuss then.” Vikki offered. “It would be hard to be intimate on the level you're looking for if he pulls away due to his emotional road blocks. It sounds like he's unintentionally confused you due to his own turmoil. Perhaps you should request his honesty in return as he's suggesting out of you.”

Samara smiled Vikki's way and nodded. “I'm so glad I was able to talk about this to you both.” She leaned forward and hugged the two on either side of her, heart ready to burst at how full it was. “Thanks for not judging me in such a weird thing I'm going through and offering support. I really needed it right now.”

Angela's arms went around her friend with a kind smile. “That's what friends are for Sam. We're always here if you need us so don't feel scared to discuss anything with us if you need to.” The two pulled away and green eyes locked onto brown. “Do you know where you're going to go from here next?”

Samara sighed, lips scrunching up. “I've got no idea. Those sites you gave me didn't really give me good research on this.” Her face flamed at the thought of watching it for three hours straight. “Charles wanted me to do some breathing exercises before he teaches me anything, but I feel like doing that would push this back so far that he'll lose interest in waiting.”

“He sounds to me like someone to honor a commitment.” Vikki gently negated. A hand lightly rested on her friend's shoulder. 

“Yea and if he's not, you really don't want to be spending time with him anyway.” Angela added with a nod. “But if he turned you down when you were drunk and is waiting until you're sturdy enough to handle what he's going to throw at you, I don't think he's going to lose interest. How long has this been going on anyway?”

“Weeks for sure. I've lost track at exactly when it started though. It seems to all blend together.” Samara admitted.

“Well, if you don't want to wait, could he help you with them somehow?”

Samara met Vikki's eyes. Her lips pursed as her brain tried to imagine the scenario. “He might...” She offered. “Being next to him makes my heart beat so fast as it is, so it's kind of like he's been unconsciously helping me this whole time already.”

“Well, perhaps he could blend the two and start off slow. He could gauge you reaction and work from there.”

Samara nodded, feeling braver after her friends' suggestions. She would need to discuss this with him somehow and see what he thought. But how did she do that? Where? He didn't want to do so at work and that's where she always saw him. Being at his place again, knowing he was willing to touch her and they would need to choose either hers or his, would make her a stumbling mess again. But any random, public place was still not a good atmosphere.

“How am I going to do that...?” She queried, chewing on a thumb again.

“Maybe you guys could go out for an actual date?” Angela suggested, brow going up. “It sounds like you kind of already have, so what's one more?”

Samara's eyes jerked to her friend, widening a little. She never considered any wining and dining, but it sounded good when she rolled it around in her head. A restaurant wasn't really the best place to discuss intimacy, but they already did before she had that drink. The car wasn't really the best location either, even if it was the most private.

She looked to the shirt she had on. “A d – date...kind of sounds nice, but...I don't have anything really date-worthy...”

“We can always lend you our clothes Sam. I bet some of them would fit you.”

“I doubt so Vikki. She's a little more endowed than we are.”

Samara's face flared a little and looked to her friends' chests at those words. Vikki was definitely more petite than her, although Angela was closer. She might be able to squeeze into Angela's outfits, but their taste in fashion was just so different that she didn't feel comfortable wearing it.

Her brows ticked up. 'Fashion?'

It was an idea. She had been asked about it a few times and with the green dress episode, Monica had done such an exceptional job fitting her with an outfit that got Charles's attention and started some of their encounters. Monica urged her about that makeover and her makeup line already, she just brushed it off as something she wasn't interested in.

Not until now at least...

Samara jumped to her feet, feeling the flames of courage burst from her. Now would be a good idea to discuss things before she got cold feet! “Angela, Vikki, I need to head back home right now! I need to talk to Monica.”

The pair looked to Samara, having stood when she did. “Okay, I'm not seeing the connection. Marhsall's girlfriend?”

Samara nodded quickly, taking her bag from Vikki's outstretched hand. “Yea! She's a Viewtuber who does fashion and makeup. She'll be perfect to help me with an outfit.”

“It sounds like you have things under control Sam. I wish you good luck and hope you get everything set up like you want it.” Vikki coached with a smile.

Samara hugged both her friends. “Thanks again for listening. This has turned out better than I thought it ever would. I hope she'll be okay with helping me again.”

Angela patted her friend's shoulder. “I know she will. It's basically her job and she seems eager to help you. Don't feel bad for asking her.”

The trio split up and Samara headed back to her apartment as quickly as the bus would allow. Her leg bounced in her seat the whole way. She needed to get to Marshall's as fast as possible so she could use this eagerness before it wore off. Monica was usually at Marshall's, and she hoped the woman was there right now. While she had Monica's number saved in her phone, a face-to-face setup was much more preferred.

She quickly knocked on Marshall's door, hoping she didn't bang on it too loudly in her exuberance. After a second of silence, she worried that he was out and she caught him at a bad time. Maybe they were going out to eat? She knocked again, actually crossing her fingers he would answer.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the lock was clicked out of the way.

“Sam? Hey. What's up?”

She took a step forward, eyes burning with firmness. “Marshall, does M – Monica happen to be with you right now?”

She didn't miss the slightly dejected look on his face and it shook her a little. It made her pause enough and shifted the gears of her original plan to halt.

“Ah...sorry Sam. She's been staying at her apartment for a bit. She hasn't been over lately.”

Her concern flared. They were always with each other that she saw! “Is everything okay Marshall? You and Monica seemed together a lot whenever I see you.”

His smile popped up, but she wondered about it after his words. “Don't worry Sam. She'll be back sooner than we both think. Did you need her number?”

She stepped forward, brow furrowing at how he was brushing off his girlfriend not being with him for a bit. “Did something happen with Monica? S – she was almost always over whenever I was here. S – sure, it was because you were sick or recovering from the hospital, b – but most times I leave for work she's also heading out.”

She watched him sigh and look to the ground below. Her heart went out to him; she saw how good they were together and their affectionate sides definitely caused her jealousy side to flare up. Dare she say that seeing those two started her wishes at a relationship with another man.

She grabbed one of his hands before she could think and gave it a squeeze, eyes sad. “D – do you want to talk about it? I don't n – need to talk to Monica this instant. I'm here for you if you need me.”

His smile was genuine and heartfelt, and she felt a tad better. His other hand came up and patted hers before taking both away. “Thanks Sam. You're the best. I'll think about the offer.” She watched him shift a little, almost like putting on another exterior as his smile seemed forced on. “What did you need Monica for? You have her number right? I remember you called her when I was at the hospital.”

She nodded and looked to her door. Phone it was going to be then... “Well...I was m – maybe...thinking about taking her up on that...makeover.”

“That's great Sam! Do whatever makes you feel better. I don't understand the whole thing, but you take charge of you!”

The warmth in his words had her beaming from renewed resolve to do this. First Charles instilled the basic brickwork, Angela and Vikki created the walls, and Marshall added the finishing touches. She really did have the best people around who cared for her and helped her as best she could. She wanted to make them all proud and feel better about herself, if not for her sake then for all of theirs.

“Thanks Marshall. I think I really n – needed to hear that. I'm going to go contact Monica right now and see if she can chat.”

A hand grasped her arm before she got too far out of reach. She looked his way with a questioning gaze and he gave a small laugh. “Marshall?”

“Ah..ha ha...sorry. I just...was going to see if you'd tell Monica 'hi' for me, but that's asking too much. You don't have to.”

She could tell the sadness on his face and he looked ready to burst into tears if he said anymore. She embraced him before she could think.

She knew the feeling all too well. Perhaps it was because Charles had stepped into her life that it had gotten brighter and easier to deal with. It seemed like Monica was to Marshall as Charles was to her and for whatever reason wasn't staying with him. He looked like he really missed her and she felt bad for him.

Marshall stumbled back just a bit before he accepted the hug. He gave a quick squeeze back before she pulled away awkwardly. “S – sorry! I should've asked. I guess I'm just so used to hugging Ch – Charles now that I didn't think you'd mind a hug.”

Marshall smiled and put his hand on her shoulder. “It's fine Sam. You were right. I guess I needed a hug. It's been a while.”

Her brow furrowed in concern. “D – do you...need another? A while sounds so sad...”

“It's cool. You filled my health meter for a bit.” Marshall gave a thumb's up, suddenly grinning to change the subject. “Charles? You wouldn't be talking about Mr. Jones would you?”

Her face flamed at the insinuation in his eyes. She cleared her throat a little, looking to the door. “Y – yea. That's the one. H – he's m – my boss...but, ah well...it's k – kind of embarrassing...”

“By how red you are, it must be good.” A finger came up and stroked the beginnings of the beard he was still working on. “Hmm, coming to Monica for a makeover huh?” He suddenly beamed and plopped a hand on a shoulder. “Well, good luck tiger! You go get Charles if that's what you're after! He's about as stuffy as they get, but he's a good guy. Great fencer too.”

She wanted to melt through the hallway in embarrassment, but took his exhilaration to heart and stuck it in the pile with everyone else's. “Y – yea... Thanks.” She quickly took a step back, waving as she went. “W – well...I guess I'll contact Monica. I'll b – be sure to tell her hi and that you miss her.”

She hurried to her apartment before he could say anything else about Charles or lament that she was going to speak to Monica on his behalf. She went inside and tossed her bag on the counter so she could grab her cell phone out of it. She pulled up Monica's number in the contacts section and paused before pressing the phone icon.

What is she was busy? What if she was distancing herself from everyone at the complex for whatever reason she had? If Monica was staying at her place, would she be okay with meeting up? Angela's words came back to her and she pulled up the text history instead. A quick check couldn't hurt. Then she wouldn't waste anyone's time.

_Monica,_ _this_ _is_ _Sam,_ _Marshall's_ _neighbor._ _I_ _was_ _wondering_ _if_ _you_ _wouldn't_ _mind_ _meeting_ _up_ _to_ _discuss_ _something_ _with_ _me._

There was an almost immediate response.

_What's_ _up_ _kiddo?_

_It's_ _about_ _that_ _make-over_ _you_ _mentioned_ _a_ _while_ _back._ _I'd_ _like_ _to_ _take_ _you_ _up_ _on_ _your_ _offer_ _if_ _that's_ _okay._

_Really?! You're fine with doing that? I'm at the studio right now working, so if you're free to come over, I can give you the address._

_I'd like that. I'll grab some things and head over. I'll need to take the bus, so it may take me a little while to get there depending on the distance._

_That's fine. I usually work late anyway._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't originally intend on adding the main characters, but it definitely fleshed out better than I thought. Lots of good plot pushers. ^_^;


	9. all dolled up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “As I am a gentleman Miss Young, it wouldn't sit right with me. In exchange for your company and boldness in taking the step of asking me out, I will gladly pay for dinner. Don't think you'll sway me on this either.”

“It's good to see you kiddo. You look great, although the color scheme you've got going on is funeral dark as hell.”

Samara smiled and stopped in front of Monica. Nothing looked outside the ordinary. She had her usual pink hair, gorgeous makeup, and fashionable outfit. But, Monica was at a photo shoot with a few other beautiful models, so she didn't know what else to expect.

“Thanks so much for meeting with me Monica. I know it's what you d – do, but you still didn't have to help me with this.”

Monica waved a hand in her face. “Oh please. I've been dying to give you a makeover and I finally get to sink my teeth in you.” Her face lit up with a grin. “So, what's the occasion? Is it that guy you were telling me about not that long ago? The one you went to dinner with?”

Samara smiled and nodded, face warming already. “Y – yea...it is. He's my b – boss, but lately, I've wanted to make him take notice.” She startled to attention and whipped her gaze over. “Thanks for the dress idea that one day! I think it really helped a small change in attitude.”

Monica snorted. “Guys like to see that figure you've got hidden away. You gave me an easy job.” A finger jolted out and poked Samara in the stomach. “And you've got a lot of natural features to work with that you never did too much with.” Blue eyes neared, expertly squinting and taking in details. “Although, the glasses really have to go. Do you need these?” Without asking, Monica reached out and plucked them off Samara's nose. “Hmm, can we make do without them? Can you do contacts? These are kind of strong...”

Samara wiped her nose at the disturbance and looked to Monica. “I don't know. I've never had contacts. I honestly don't know if there's enough time to get them.”

Monica's brow went up, head tilting in curiosity. “Oh? Are you needing this done right now?”

“I...I'm not sure actually. It was kind of a sudden idea I had, although I haven't talked to him about it yet.”

“I'm lost.”

Samara's face heated further. “W – well...we kind of reached a consensus on...being t – together...” Her fingers twiddled together.

“So you two are going out and you want to look good for him?”

“W – well I want to l – look good for him, b – but we're not...going out...kind of t – together...”

Monica stared for a second before the light bulb clicked on and her eyes widened. “Oohh...” She drawled, a grin forming. “Well far be it for me to tell you no. A makeover for something of that magnitude is definitely within my skill level, I assure you. I can make you look like a million bucks and then teach you how to keep your price tag that high all the time.” A hand draped itself on Samara's shoulder, bringing her further into the makeup area. “So you're here for a makeover to break him in? Please tell me he's at least going to take you out for this beforehand.”

“I...don't know. Maybe...”

Monica jolted to a halt, looking highly confused. “What do you mean you 'don't know'? Haven't you talked to him about this idea of yours yet?!”

Samara cringed. “N – no... I kind of just...went with the flow on th – this one. Before I lost my courage, you know?”

Monica sighed and took a step back. “There's a something of a back room over there. You go call him right now and discuss this! I'm still going to give you a makeover like we both want, but you need to level with this guy and keep him up to speed. How can he take you out if he doesn't know what you want first?”

First Charles was asking for communication and now Monica was parroting him. They were both right, although she didn't know what he'd be doing right now. “I'll just g – go see if he's available to chat then...” She hurried away, hand delving into her bag as she practically ran to the place Monica pointed to, feeling like an idiot.

She should have thought of Charles before Monica, but she was just so pumped up that she got lost in the enthusiasm of others. That in itself wasn't really a bad thing, but she didn't really know what she wanted to do with all of this yet. She didn't mean to keep him in the dark; this really came up suddenly and she knew if she was given time to think on it, she'd talk herself out of it. All she was for sure on was dolling herself up a little and making sure Charles saw it. As she had been on a handful of informal dinners so far with him, it seemed like something nice to try. She didn't think Charles would mind, since he negated her comment about him not finding her attractive. If she could do so with nothing more than well-fitting clothes and no makeup, how would he react if Monica did her magic?

Teeth bit her lip as she pulled up his contact history. She was too nervous to outright call him. He did say he had fencing after work on occasion, but she didn't see the bag in his car this morning. What if he was busy? He mentioned before that he often was up late with international contracts; he could be working right now and already using his phone.

She pulled up their text history, feeling better at sending something he could get to in his own time. If he didn't answer within five minutes, she would just have to think this whole thing through later.

 _Charles,_ _I_ _hate_ _to_ _bother_ _you,_ _but_ _are_ _you_ _free_ _to_ _talk_ _real_ _quick?_ _It's_ _nothing_ _too_ _urgent,_ _so_ _don't_ _be_ _worried_ _if_ _you_ _can't._

She sent it before she could erase it, heart already pounding and palms damp. She started pacing after tossing the phone on a table. 'Think. What are you even going for here? Angela had a great idea, although she probably didn't think of starting it at such a high level. I guess I don't know if I'd want Monica to do too much to my face. I don't know how to do all of that even though she's willing to teach me. I guess mascara isn't too hard, if I don't poke myself in the eye over it that is.'

She was in the process of reaching for the phone to check the clock when it rang. She nearly screeched and jumped back before hurrying to it and pressing the green phone icon. “Charles??”

“Miss Young, are you alright? You sound rushed. Is something the matter?”

She grimaced at such a lousy start. “N – no...I'm sorry. I just didn't expect y – you to call so s – soon...or at all. I know how busy you are.”

“Nonsense Miss Young. You sent me a request for conversation and who am I to deny you that. You hardly text me.”

This was true. She didn't want to abuse any out-of-office behavior by randomly texting him or calling to talk. She knew his hours and didn't want to waste his time.

“Thanks for responding so quickly. It...it's kind of time sensitive after all I suppose.”

“Please elaborate Miss Young.”

She cleared her throat, resuming her pacing as the only proper way to keep her heart from exploding and release tension. “Ah...w – well...it's kind of confusing. This just came about this afternoon, but it sounded l – like such a great idea and I kind of jumped on it, b – but just realized I hadn't said anything to you yet or asked your opinion.”

“I'm all ears then Miss Young.”

Her lips pressed together, free hand clenching. She held the phone away from her ear to take a deep breath and hoped he didn't hear. She looked to the open area around the two cloth walls separating the larger structure. There were clothes all over the place and she assumed it was a makeshift changing area. “Um...I was given this g – great idea earlier. Actually, it m – might not be all that great, but I needed to run it by you first s – since you have to be apart of it.”

“We already discussed this earlier at the office Miss Young.”

“N – not that. I was thinking m – more along the lines of...before any of that stuff happened. L – like...dinner?”

“Are you perhaps asking me out on a date Miss Young?”

She could hear the grin in his voice and it effectively jogged her nerves to scowl at him. The last time something like this happened, he teased her and she didn't want that right now. His smile was kind of infectious though and her lips tilted a little. “M...maybe I am. If that's not too forward.”

“Our first outing ended with you wishing to have invited me inside your apartment, albeit for a chat. I can't see how you would see that as less brazen than dinner.”

Her hope flared a little as she read into his words. “D – does that mean that's a yes?”

Charles chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “I am more fond of taking up a Friday night for such adventures so as to be able to enjoy the evening should it run late. I know that's a few days away, so I suppose it depends on what you were originally intending.”

Teeth bit her lip. She didn't want to wait too much longer. She didn't want to lose hope and strength in this new venture. The lapse of time always dulled and twisted everything so she questioned herself and her actions after the minutes passed. “Ah...w – well...I -”

“Did you get a hold of him yet?”

She jumped and yelped into the phone, almost dropping it. She slightly pulled the phone away from her ear and looked to the open exit. “You scared me Monica!”

Monica paused and held back. “Ah, you did get to call him I see. What did he say? Yes? No? I don't know if you want to stay out too late since it's the weekday. We haven't discussed plans for what you want me to do and it'll take time to teach you all of this you know. I plan on recording all of this, so if you need the video you can get a copy.”

“I just need another second and I'll be right out.” She brought the phone back to her ear as Monica left. “Charles?”

“Whatever is it that you're doing...wherever it is that you're at Miss Young? It sounds quite curious on my end.”

She cleared her throat, finger tapping against a leg. Her face flamed and she took a subtle deep breath. “You s – see...the thing is...I thought that m – maybe...something outside of what we've already done m – might be nice. A little fancier. I realized that I d – didn't know how to do that stuff s – so I enlisted Marshall's girlfriend's help. She's another Viewtuber who does videos on fashion and makeup.” Her lips pressed together. “She...she was g – going to give me a m – makeover...”

There was silence on the other end and she fidgeted with the hem of the shirt. She could have grabbed her inhaler and given herself three sprays of medicine within the gap of conversation he made. Her jaw clenched as she waited, unable to keep from doing so for too long. “Charles? Are you there? I know it all sounds so silly. I realize I don't m – make enough for what I'm thinking about. L – last time you t – took me to a fancy place, y – you ended up paying. Sorry...I didn't r – really think this through that w – well. W – we don't have to if y – you don't want...”

“You'll have to forgive me Miss Young. I was simply stunned at such a change in demeanor.” There was another pause, only it was much quicker. “Is this perhaps another thing that you're doing for my benefit?”

“Yes.” She jumped at how quickly she blurted that out, startling her and probably him with that quick of a response.

“I see. Far be it for me then to deny you something that I am starting to look forward to myself. If you wish to make it closer than the weekend, that is alright with me. Are you familiar with any extravagant restaurants in the city?”

She slumped. This was going to be more annoying than she thought. “No. But I think I can ask one of the models or Monica if they know anything.”

“That won't be necessary Miss Young. Please don't consider putting yourself out for anything other than looking more beautiful than you already are. I'll take care of the rest.”

“No Charles! It's n – not right for you to do anything! Aren't I supposed to l – look that stuff up and do all the work?”

“As I am a gentleman Miss Young, it wouldn't sit right with me. In exchange for your company and boldness in taking the step of asking me out, I will gladly pay for dinner. Don't think you'll sway me on this either.”

She managed a silly smile at the softness in his voice. She gripped the phone a little tighter, the previous elation clubbing her over the head again. “Is it okay if we do tomorrow night? I know tonight is a bit too sudden. I have to get things set up here with Monica and learn whatever she has in mind. I need to catch her up to speed now that there's a plan.”

“Tomorrow night sounds just fine Miss Young. I'll pick you up at your place by six if that's okay. The place I'm considering has a dress code. Do you own the garments for such a venture?”

“I'm sure Monica is going to play dress up with me while I'm here.” Teeth nibbled her lip. “If not, she'll probably drag me out shopping if nothing fits whatever she has in her head.”

“Then it's settled Miss Young. Tomorrow at your apartment at six. I look forward to it.”

Honesty. He and Monica both said the same thing. She steeled herself, lips pressed together. Just say it! “Yea. M – me too...”

“Have a fun and pleasant evening with your friend, Miss Young.”

She practically floated back to Monica, wanting to hug the woman in her good mood. “It's a date!” She exclaimed with a huge grin.

Monica smiled. “I'm happy for you kiddo. Now, I need details on what's going on so we can adjust for time and teaching. You're still wearing whatever disgusting line you've been keeping hold of and it's got to go. I won't make you buy anything I use on you so long as you let me film it for a future update. Like I said, you can have a copy so you can do this anytime yourself in the future. Agreed?”

She nodded, exuberance coming over her again like a tidal wave. “I'm not adept in this at all as you can tell. So you'll have to go slow and teach me as best you can before it gets too late. You're right in that I have work tomorrow.”

“Alright. I've got my work cut out for me, but it's a challenge I gladly accept!” A fist came up in Monica's fervor. “We need makeup layouts, color schemes, finding your seasonal color palette, a dress, heels, and accessories. I can check to see if I've got anything lying around here that we once used.” Monica paused in her trek to the wall where most of the contents she mentioned were being kept. “How dolled up are you getting anyway?”

“Ah...we're going someplace fancy, but I don't know where to. He just mentioned there's a dress code was all.”

“Hmm. I think I've already got a good idea of makeup then.” Monica started muttering to herself as she headed off toward a clothing rack. She started rummaging through it, eyes squinting here and there in thought at the few she picked out. “Ah, this is a nice color with your eyes, but I hope it matches your chest...” Monica waited until Samara had scurried over and held up a long, silky dress in front of her. “The good thing about your hair being so dark and your skin being fairly pale is that you can pull off both pastels and dark colors.”

Samara's eyes widened, face jerking back a little as Monica got closed to her face and circled her. As usual, her face heated up from near contact. “Hmm. We need to do something about all that blushing you keep doing. You definitely don't need any rouge.” Slender fingers lightly grasped Samara's chin and twisted her face both sides and she moved with the urging, knowing she needed to play doll right now and let Monica do her thing. “Your lips can use a dark lipstick, but I think we'll keep the eyes simple. We don't want it to overshadow the amazing dress you're going to be wearing. That's what jewelry is for after all.”

“I may need to borrow some of that too.” Samara confessed with a sheepish grin. “I don't have anything.”

Monica blinked as if unable to understand such a thing. Her hand twisted Samara's face around again. “Looks like we'll have to do something special for earrings since you don't have pierced ears. Your hands are pretty small so rings will be too bulky for you. But your ears are petite enough that a small something will show them off.” Monica circled around, hand going for the bun she had thrown everything in and took it out. “Hmm, yes. Your hair is nice and soft. At least you've been using good conditioner. It looks longer; have you been growing it out?”

Samara turned a bit and looked over her shoulder. “I guess? I don't know the last time I bothered getting it cut. I usually keep it short because it's easier to manage. I think any time I see you, my hair is up.”

“Well, if we use the dress I'm thinking we might, we'll have to finagle it. Hot rollers will do wonders I think.”

She had no idea what Monica kept talking about and idly listened as she let herself be prodded and moved around before finally directed to a chair. She felt totally out of her element and comfort zone, but told herself she could do it and that Charles was going to love it. He even admitted he was looking forward to it and he had no idea what was going to happen. Monica was an expert and as Angela said, it was basically her job. Samara was thankful this was all going to be on video and while she didn't know if she could watch it again without feeling abashed at being recorded, she couldn't see what Monica was doing when she kept standing in front of the makeup mirror so often.

She didn't bother to memorize the keywords and after a few times of defending her ignorance on the subject when Monica kept trying to give her the vocabulary, she let the woman work and chat with her team instead.

She felt like a Barbie doll with Monica doing her face, someone working on her hair, and a third person who had pulled up one of her sleeves to stick pieces of colored paper against. The trio discussed seasons and she tried to keep her confusion down as to how that had anything to do with the dress she was going to wear. She wisely kept quiet, knowing their choice of words was for them only.

“Alright. We've got the setup worked out. Do you want to look now or when the dress is on?”

Samara jolted to, having tried to keep awake with all of the combing and fingers going through her hair for however long. “Are we done?” Her eyes felt strange and her lips odd. She pursed her lips and could kind of see some color of lipstick, but not very well.

“Almost. You just need to see if you can squeeze into this dress. It's a good thing you wore a wide-neck shirt. You'll be able to pull that down your torso and keep your hair in shape. The dress is pull up and I'll zip you up the back. Follow me if you don't want to see anything yet.”

Not like she could see very well without her glasses anyway, wherever they were put. She was tempted to peek, but knew they weren't making her up in what she was already wearing. She followed Monica to the open dressing area and paused when the woman held the dress, looking away. “You'll need to take your bra off for this dress since it's too low-cut for it.”

“Wh – what?!” She blurted out, eyes widening. “I don't think I can wear a dress without my bra!”

“At least slip it on before you start negating anything.” Monica looked to her. “Do you need help with that top?”

Samara looked down and shook her head. “Top...down? Not over my head right?” She did as told, feeling odd at taking off a shirt in a new way. She left the tights on, since she figured they hugged enough to not interfere with the dress. She left her bra on, not brazen enough to be that nude in front of Monica whose chest had much more going for it than hers, even though Monica claimed they weren't real. Samara took the dress and unzipped the back, pulling it up over her hips and whipping around to uncover her chest before pulling straps through her arms.

“A – are you sure that it doesn't cover more than this??” She queried, looking at a fair amount of cleavage meeting her eyes when she looked down to straighten things.

Monica peeked over and turned to find Samara's back to her. She grabbed the bottom of the zipper near her lower back and pulled it up till it stopped, fingers tugging at spots to situate everything. “Well, it's a great top fit, but too baggy at the waist. I know I can find something to make it sit just right though. Leave it on and I'll be back in a bit.”

Samara watched Monica disappear in a second and wrapped her arms around the dress self-consciously. It felt cold, but she realized that it was silk instead of the usual cotton she always had. It was strange, but soft and a finger idly rubbed against her stomach to take in the sensation. She didn't remember having ever worn silk before.

There was no mirror in the area, so she tried to take herself in by simply looking down. Her hair was up, her neck and back cold already. She didn't know how she was going to be able to go out for the night when she was already starting to freeze. A hand rubbed an arm to try and warm it up as she started shivering.

“I'm back. I hope this belt works. It's kind of a company special.” Monica paused and looked at the odd posture. “Are you cold? I suppose the air conditioning is working kind of hard. I do have something you can work with though. Let me go get it. This could look really cute actually...”

Within a span of a few minutes, Monica exited again and was back almost as quickly. She stood behind and tugged a wide belt under Samara's breast line and hooked it closed as tight as it would go. “That should help keep the girls from sinking.” Monica mumbled, hand going to a shoulder. “Alright. Let's get these on you and keep you kind of warm. This might be more tantalizing than you were thinking of, but some guys like to put their hands on a girl's back. You're pretty tiny, so you're both covered up and yet slightly exposed.” Monica smiled and circled Samara once. “Yea. Those will do. It doesn't look baggy at all with the width of the belt.” A hand plopped on her shoulder. “Alright. I think some basic pearls and then you can finally look in the mirror kiddo.”

The arm pieces were cotton and helped immensely. Samara followed Monica to back to the main room and soon felt the weight of clip-on earrings and a necklace. It felt like it was choking her, even though it wasn't. She tried not to pull on it since it felt delicate. The earrings pinched her ears and the sensation wasn't nice, but she wasn't going to wear these for long. She was going to have to figure out how tomorrow was going to work without taking them off during dinner. “Alright! I like it. Let's get you to a full-length mirror so you can see for yourself.”

It would be hard to see without her glasses, and Samara ended up standing as close as she could so as to not miss the makeup job Monica had to do. Once she could focus on herself and see everything in its ending spot, she gasped and her eyes flew wide. She blinked and looked herself over so many times it was amazing her eyes didn't hurt. “Is that...me?”

Monica smiled and nodded. “You clean up real nice kiddo. Thanks for letting me experiment on you like this. I knew you had some good spots that would come out if you let me do my magic. This guy of yours is going to get knocked for a loop.”

Samara turned and grabbed one of Monica's hand so she didn't mess anything up with a hug. “I can't believe it! Thank you so much!” A thought entered her head and stole some of the enthusiasm. “But, I can't do all of this myself again. And Charles is picking me up at six. How am I going to get this all done in time?”

“Don't worry Sam. Your fairy godmother is going to help turn your pumpkin back to a coach tomorrow. I didn't expect you to memorize all of this in one day. Make sure you're home an hour early and I'll get you dolled back up in time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dress Sam is wearing is the Sam / Charles Mongie drawing where she's got her arms over his shoulders and holding the quill sans glasses. Found the link: https://www.instagram.com/p/CDikIazl51F/


	10. date night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His head shook and he patted her hand a little. “Samara, if you were to inconvenience me, I would have not agreed to such a thing in the first place.” He suddenly smiled, head tilting a little. “Surely you'll allot me this one time to spoil you just as you are spoiling me now.”

“ _Hey_ _kiddo._ _You're_ _ready_ _to_ _do_ _this?_ _”_

“ _Yes...and_ _no._ _”_

“ _Don't_ _worry_ _you'll_ _look_ _perfect._ _I'll_ _see_ _to_ _that._ _”_ _A_ _hand_ _draped_ _a_ _long_ _plastic_ _bag_ _over_ _the_ _kitchen_ _counter_ _and_ _made_ _sure_ _the_ _hanger_ _didn't_ _slip._ _“_ _Now,_ _let_ _me_ _boot_ _up_ _these_ _hot_ _rollers_ _first_ _because_ _they_ _take_ _a_ _few_ _minutes._ _”_ _Monica_ _headed_ _around_ _the_ _area_ _that_ _was_ _identical_ _to_ _a_ _place_ _she_ _had_ _frequented_ _lately and thus needed no help asking where things were._ _She_ _plugged_ _in_ _a_ _large_ _plastic_ _container_ _and_ _turned_ _around._ _“_ _Now._ _How_ _well_ _can_ _you_ _see_ _without_ _those_ _glasses?_ _”_

“ _Um...I_ _guess_ _it_ _depends_ _on_ _what_ _I_ _intend_ _on_ _doing._ _I_ _can_ _kind of_ _get_ _around,_ _but_ _the_ _things_ _are pretty_ _blurred._ _I'm_ _really_ _near-sighted._ _”_

“ _How_ _about_ _you_ _try_ _going_ _without_ _them_ _tonight?_ _Just_ _lean_ _on_ _that_ _guy_ _of_ _yours_ _for_ _a_ _few_ _hours_ _when_ _you're_ _together._ _You_ _can_ _always_ _carry_ _them_ _in_ _your_ _purse_ _if_ _you_ _really_ _need_ _them._ _”_

“ _Well...I_ _suppose_ _that'd_ _be_ _fine..._ _But_ _it'll_ _be_ _hard_ _to_ _see_ _his_ _face_ _at_ _the_ _dinner_ _table._ _”_

“ _Sounds_ _like_ _the_ _perfect_ _excuse_ _to_ _get_ _close_ _to_ _him_ _in_ _order_ _to_ _see_ _him._ _”_ _Monica_ _sighed._ _“_ _Oh_ _my_ _god,_ _we're_ _going_ _to_ _need_ _to_ _do_ _something_ _about_ _that_ _blush_ _of_ _yous!_ _”_

“ _Sorry._ _I_ _can't_ _exactly_ _h_ _–_ _help_ _it..._ _”_

“ _Take_ _a_ _few_ _deep_ _breaths._ _Have_ _faith_ _in_ _yourself._ _You_ _saw_ _yourself_ _last_ _night_ _and_ _I'm_ _going_ _to_ _make_ _that_ _happen_ _again._ _Like_ _I_ _said,_ _confidence_ _is_ _attractive._ _Know_ _it_ _and_ _own_ _it_ _Sam._ _Have_ _some_ _fun;_ _I_ _doubt_ _your_ _date_ _will_ _mind._ _”_

Her chest felt like her heart was twisting around in her ribcage. Teeth bit her lip as her limbs wanted to flay around wildly in their adrenaline-fused haze. Her stomach was in a race with her heart on how unsettled it could be. She wanted to bite her lip, but she didn't want to ruin the lipstick on her face. Although Monica said it would hold against drinking something, she didn't have the confidence to trust that it wouldn't get everywhere. It was in her purse, but she didn't want to go nuts with it to soon.

Pacing around the entire apartment was the best idea, but she worried she'd trip over the dress and thus only toddled around the kitchen. It was long and she feared she was too short in it, so Monica provided three inch heels to help raise her up enough so she didn't catch the hem. Every step blew the slightest amount of cool air on her exposed back and she felt more than conscious about it being so open. The dress in itself was beautiful, but Monica did pick it out after all. She was reassured what felt like a million times from the woman about how well it fit, how the color went very well with her skin tone, how the design gave off the greatest amount of sex appeal in different ways despite being floor-length and only showing off her back. The fabric was silk and it felt warm at times, but when a breeze got her just right, it chilled her legs quite a bit.

'This is not overdone. This is not overdone. Remember what Monica said. You're gorgeous and deserve to show off to everyone. This is for Charles. Think of how he's going to react. Think of how he's going to react. Don't change right now. You don't have time and Monica will get really mad at you. You got home early and spent over an hour on all of this so she could disappear before Charles gets here. You don't even own anything that even compares to what she loaned you anyway. Canceling the dinner after making him work so hard on it would be very bad.'

A hand went to the cotton arm guard and brushed against it uneasily. She had looked at herself in a mirror when Monica was present, but didn't have the will to do so now. Her hands were already shaking enough and she didn't trust herself to do so until Charles got there and gave his review. It really did mean a lot to her considering she gave in to Monica's suggestion of a make-over. She never bothered to pretty herself up like today because it was never something she cared about, even though the makeup was made to look natural and not there at all.

Not until Charles got involved.

She said before that she wanted to turn his head. The green dress had done a number on him when she thought back on it. The outfit for her presentation and the white t-shirt she mentioned she intentionally left without a cardigan. They were all attempts to make him notice her and it had more of an effect than she ever figured, could ever imagine. Those catalysts probably helped bring her to this time where she had dolled herself up to the point of being able to go to a super fancy, really expensive restaurant that he was now going to treat her to and she could never afford. Although she suggested it, he insisted that he would pay because it was abhorrent to him for her to do so. He knew that she couldn't because she made less than him, even being his assistant now, and his mother had taught him to treat a woman as a shining object and not a piece of dirt. Despite his reassurances, she already felt guilty for making him spend his had earned money on her whim.

The five minute warning clock she set on her phone chimed and startled her. He was going to be here any second! Her heart picked up speed, if that was even possible, and she looked to the matching purse on the kitchen counter, wondering if she was going to send herself into an attack before they even met. An inhaler was there just in case. She looked down to the barest line of cleavage the dress allotted. 'He's going to like it. He liked you in a low-cut top and jeans. This is much more extravagant than that.'

Her hands wrung together. He was probably going to be in something fancy as well considering the high-end place they were going to. There was something of an enforced dress code, which was another reason why she had never set foot in such a location. Her anxiety twisted a little in anticipation to how he'd look. She saw him in suits all of the time so she got the business dress-up quality to him whenever. She didn't know how much different he was going to be tonight. But, the ambiance of the whole evening would make it special regardless. This was probably more about her than him in that regard. Although dressing up was more for his eyes than hers, this was perhaps going to be a mutually enjoyable evening.

The knock on the door scared her witless and she yelped.

“Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh...H – here goes n – nothing...” She took a deep breath like Monica said, mentally chanted how good she looked, and yanked the door open in her adrenaline.

It was hard to see details without her glasses, just like she warned Monica. Charles's face was blurred, but she could still see the wide eyes and dropped jaw. She took in what looked like a cream or light gray tux, dark accents in the tie and flower at his chest. The bow tie was different than his usual straight design and it was enough of a change. The shirt was lighter than the rest of the tux and she figured it was a plain white. The jacket itself was open to reveal another vest and same color edges.

“Well...Miss Y – Samara... You are quite exquisite. Beautiful doesn't quite cover what I'm attempting to describe.” His hand came up, revealing a small bouquet of flowers. “Mind if I enter to give you these?”

“Sure!” She exclaimed, much louder than she wanted and winced a little. She stepped out of the doorway and let him in, taking in the long coat tails trailing behind him. A brow rose, but he still pulled it off. He could probably pull off a loincloth if he wanted and be perfect.

Her face flamed as the image came to mind and she almost slammed the door in her nerves.

He turned at the loud click, brow raising as he took in her exposed back and then they both disappeared into his hairline. The dress bustled around her legs as she turned to face him, utterly red and silent. Proper words failed him to describe the beauty and he was reminded of his comment to her at a previous dinner about a butterfly still in its cocoon. She looked uncomfortable in her outfit and he mentally knew he would need a little extra reassuring in the beginning. She had no need to be shy; she was drop dead gorgeous. Once her wings dried and she fluttered them a few times, he knew she would be able to take off and fly anywhere she wanted.

He stepped forward and bowed, holding the flowers out. “A gift. I thought it was appropriate, but it seems to be grossly plain for the ravishing garment you have on.”

She grinned shyly and reached her hands out for the paper wrapping. She smelled them and lightly touched one of the petals. “Thank you. They smell really nice.”

He couldn't help himself. He wanted to jog her and bring her stiffness down a few pegs and it was the first thing that popped into his head. “Better than my Welsh tits?”

“Charles!” Her face exploded and she cried out in mortification, burying her face as well as she could in the flowers. He burst out laughing and she yanked the flowers away and glared at him. “Charles... I'd be perfectly happy to bury that in the sands of time if you please.” She growled.

He chuckled even as he stood close enough to touch her. He took a hand and brought the back of it to his lips, smelling perfume at her wrist and subtly drew it into his nose. It smelled good and he bet the makeover artist was responsible for it. “There you are Samara. I was wondering where you had gone to. I didn't recognize you for a second.”

That small statement peeled back almost all of her unease and threw it out the door. She smiled and felt herself calm in his strong presence. “Y...you look...very nice. Very handsome. I've never seen such a coat, but y – you can surely pull it off.”

“Thank you Samara. I utilized the best tux in my closet, but it still can't hold a candle to your elegance.” He eyed the color at her chest and the arm guards. “We somehow managed to color coordinate.”

Now that he was much closer, she could see the rest of the shirt he had on. The lines looked good and made his torso appear even taller than it already was. The accents she found out to be purple and they were very similar to the darkened parts of the dress. His hair was back like it always was in the office, but it was different because of what he wore. “I think you look better than me...” She mumbled, more to herself than him.

He openly gave her a once-over, taking a step back to take in the heels that still didn't get her much higher to his face. He kept hold of her fingers in his own, not feeling like letting go just yet. “On the contrary Samara. I do believe that you will be the only star of this show tonight.”

Her head ducked modestly, lips pressing together through a smile. She didn't want to negate his words because she had been waiting on his opinion and he had repeatedly given it since she opened the door. It was definitely the confidence boost she needed since Monica stepped inside to help her. Monica's earlier words went through her head and she tried to latch onto them. “So...what kind of flowers are these?”

“Pink and red camellias.”

“They're really pretty. Do they mean something?”

It was a lost art, the language of flowers. It was hard to find something that described their relationship because he couldn't put a proper definition to it in order to get something at the florist and it took almost half an hour. Red roses were too much, as were chrysanthemums and honeysuckle as they were all love related. But, he figured the closest thing for their budding circumstances fit the ones he picked out.

He watched her head to the kitchen area similarly designed like his place and grab as tall of a glass that she owned from a cupboard to fill it with water. His lips tiled. “Well, there are multiple meanings per color, but pink camellias can symbolize longing and affection while red leans more toward passion.”

Her heart somersaulted in her chest. It almost hurt it because it did so swiftly and she wasn't ready for it. The sound of the faucet running went ignored for a few breaths as she tried to meet his eyes without her glasses. Her brain wiped itself clean and all intelligent discourse went out the window. “Ah...” She mentally cursed herself at how dumb she sounded and looked to the glass with furrowed brows. She quickly put them in her eating space so she could see them all the time. “Thank you. They're...appropriate.”

“You once mentioned that you didn't normally receive flowers. I wanted to rectify that as well.”

She looked to the red, lips pressing together as she lightly touched the petals. “That's...n – not...what I m – meant...but thank you.”

“What did you mean Samara?” He watched her caress the flower, having chosen the red over the pink. He leaned on the tall dining space next to the glass, eyes unconsciously riveted on her. His heart picked up speed ever so slightly.

“ _I know it's difficult to voice what you require, but please have faith when it comes to me. You can say whatever it is you feel or need and I'll answer you.”_

Honesty. Just say it. He looked like he wanted to hear it. He had already requested it before. What could the harm be in words on the tip of her tongue? With what she was hoping to gain out of him, she needed to be more at ease with saying things like this.

“I...w – well...” She took a deep breath, steeling herself to get the words out without stuttering and looked him in the eye. “I won't speak on your behalf, but the colors match my feelings for you quite well.”

A brow quickly went up. Her rare bluntness was a treat, as dangerous for the rest of the evening as it was.

He wanted to shake his head. This wasn't the first time she failed to read between the lines, although he didn't expect her to be an expert on flowers. He smiled before he could help it, slowly pushing off the counter and rounded the corner for her. He stopped in front, hand lightly clasping her chin and bringing wide eyes to his. “Then perhaps I should verbalize myself.” He murmured, head dipping a bit. “I chose these as a representation of our newfound relationship. I considered them the most appropriate. I'm happy to see the feelings are mutual.”

She wanted to fall to the floor in a puddle when his lips lightly met hers. She felt stone in his lack of hold, kept prisoner with a mere finger and thumb on her chin and his mouth over hers. He didn't move, didn't try to deepen the kiss at all. She couldn't close her eyes to savor the feeling and it was strange when he opened his eyes after a second to meet hers so close.

He pulled away with a smirk and she wanted to stamp her foot that he stopped.

“You are very endearing Samara. Now, please grab your purse and we will head out. Reservations are for six-thirty.”

She blinked and looked to the marble where she left the small object. The cord was sitting, awaiting her shoulder and she snatched it up. “Ready.” She announced with a smile. He nodded and opened her door, not letting her do so. “Charles, are you going to let me open my own door?” She gave him a dry look.

“Get used to being pampered Samara. My mother trained me well and I would feel like a heel if I let anything become of that irresistible dress of yours.”

She ducked her head with a grin, wondering how many times it'd been now that he complimented how she looked. She jolted a little at the feel of something on her back and turned to find his hand slightly following her out. “Charles?”

“My apologies Samara. Force of habit.”

She smiled and looked to the ground. “No. It's f – fine. Really.” A hand rose to fidget with hair she usually left loose, but Monica had pulled it all up in that curled bun she stuck a ton of bobby pins in.

The motion wasn't lost, but the sight of earrings on her was something he hadn't noticed until now. The necklace was easy with all of the skin next to it and no fabric anywhere near her neck, but the earrings were short and slightly hidden under smaller tendrils of hair over the top of her ears. “I was unaware you had pierced ears Samara.”

“Oh I don't. They're clip-ons.”

“They suit you well.”

She was going to have to start a list of all the praise and similar words he kept using. She thanked him again and headed down the hallway. “Will you be alright in that dress with the stairs? I seem to recall you having difficulty maneuvering in tight clothing.”

Was he referring to all of the pencil skirts she used around him where she tried to keep up with his much longer stride? She scowled at him, seeing him smile at the jest. “I'll manage.” She pouted, a hand grabbing part of the dress to raise it as she started down.

Her free hand was suddenly cradled, his fingers strong around hers.

She looked up from the step below, face warming. Words were stuck on her tongue, but her mouth still opened to question him. He was still on the step above, kind eyes on hers. “I'll help you down to the ground Samara. It would be a terrible shame for you to fall now.”

Now before the night had begun. Before they could spend a few hours in each other's fancy company. To chat about things she didn't know she'd be able to cover and yet knew needed to happen. She gave a choppy nod, letting him get close to her on the narrow stairway to do as he wished. She could have used the railing, but this was much nicer and gave her all sorts of cozy feelings she let herself fall into while they slowly headed down to the ground.

Besides, she got a good whiff of his cologne the whole way down.

It was the same thing he usually wore, but she never took the time to figure out the fragrance before now. If 'soft' could be used for smells, that was the first thing that came to mind. She could detect citrus, some kind of flower, an earthy smell, and...something she didn't know the word to. It was really faint and she wanted to spray it on her pillow so she could hold it against her nose whenever she wanted to think of him. It kept her highly occupied the whole way down and she was actually surprised when they reached the floor.

He let go of her hand and his met the small of her back to direct her to the spot the car was in. She startled a little, but didn't say anything and walked in time with him. He got them maybe half a dozen paces before pausing and extending an arm. “If you would permit me once more Samara. The sidewalk seems uneven up ahead and I don't often see you in heels at the office.”

Her face heated as she slowly encircled his arm. She mentally noted how quickly she could get used to such posh treatment. She lightly clutched the fabric on his arm before he tucked their limbs closer to his side. He looked to her with an amiable look, free arm waving ahead. “There. The way should be safe now.”

She smiled and walked as fast as she could go, but was a little behind. Even with a hand on her dress to pull it out of the way of her heels, her legs weren't as long as his were. “Charles, could you slow down a bit? My legs are short.” He instantly matched her stride and she smiled at him. “Thanks.”

“It's no trouble Samara.”

He helped her into the car as he had once before and shut the door for her. She watched him round the front and quickly smelled a wrist. The perfume was still there and she was happy. She wanted to remain perfect and keep feeling on top of the world from his words. Hands smoothed the dress at her legs as his door opened and he got his seat belt on. He started the car and they headed out wordlessly. She felt slightly nervous at the quiet and tried not to fidget in her seat. She wanted to make small talk, but couldn't figure out just where to begin.

He beat her to it when they paused at a light and he looked her way.

“I was unaware you wore contacts.”

A hand touched her nose where her glasses didn't rest for once. “Ah...yea. I don't, but I didn't have time to get any for tonight.”

He gave her a confused look. “I saw your prescription for myself; how will you manage tonight without them?”

“Oh I have them in my purse, but Monica said that...th – that...n – not wearing them meant that I c – could stand closer in order to...see you better...”

He smirked and focused on the road again. “I'll be sure to keep that in mind then.”

She blinked and looked at his side profile. “Keep what in mind?”

He spared a one second glance her way before keeping his eyes on traffic. “That if you come very close to me, it's mainly to see me better.”

She flushed, lips pressing together, fingers subtly rubbing against each other nervously. “Y – yea...”

He looked at her again, lips tilting wryly. “Or perhaps I shouldn't assume and go with the flow if you decide to get near.”

Her face flamed and she was tongue-tied to silence for the rest of the ride. She jerked to attention when he slowed the car and parked in front of a fairly tall building. From what she could see, there were multiple stores that seemed for dining. It reminded her of the first time she offered to buy Charles lunch and she cringed a little at how much this place was going to cost. She looked to the door as it opened for her and Charles helped her from the car again. She looked to someone in obvious work suit clothes and merely watched Charles hand off his keys and the person drove away after a mere greeting.

He turned to her and took in her obvious confusion. “A valet Samara.” He explained, extending his arm again. She took it a little less hesitant than last time, not needing to tell him to match her stride. She was pleased that he remembered and reveled as her heart danced around a bit.

“Is that a...waterfall in the windows?!” She nearly exclaimed, squinting to see it better as they nearly passed through the entryway.

“Indeed it is Samara.”

She whipped to him with wide, slightly panicked eyes. “I'm so sorry to put you out like this Charles! I won't ask anything like this from you again I swear! I know it's more for my sake than yours, but you've been so nice to cater to me like this!”

He momentarily looked to the floor with a bashful smile before looking her way and patting the hand tucked in his. “Think nothing of it Samara. I did say that in exchange for your budding courage I would pay for tonight.” He subtly eyed the small line of cleavage that seemed to bounce a little more against his arm. His face heated a small degree and he quietly cleared his throat. “Although, I'm not too sure how hungry I will be with the feast you've already given my eyes.”

She stuttered as an employee led them through the lower level for the stairs and she really wished she had her glasses on. “Is...that a chandelier?”

He kept his pace slow on the stairs to help her up. “Not the only one it looks like.” He reported. “There's a piano I can hear on one of these floors.”

She was so out of her element! This place was a raid boss about twenty levels above her and despite playing dress up tonight, that didn't mean it changed her mannerisms or high class knowledge. The last time she ate out with Charles when he tested her courage at a fancy place, she had way too many utensils to choose from and he ended up helping her to keep from making a fool of herself.

“Here you are sir and madam. Is the view okay? There is another table we could seat you at if you prefer.”

“Samara?”

“Don't make me answer Charles. I can't really see anything.” She bashfully answered.

He looked to the server and nodded. “This will suffice.”

She was released from Charles's hold and went to her chair, but the server beat her to it and pulled it out for her. She blinked and shuffled to it, not used to having her chair pushed in for her. She looked at the table, seeing multiple forks and knives on either side of a plate. Wine glasses were set up for them and there was a small lamp in the center for when the sun went down. The tablecloth was dark, as were the chairs. She wondered if it was better than her office chair with as cushy as it felt.

“I hope you like the view Samara. Perhaps you may take a quick second to enjoy it.”

She looked to the blurry skyline, able to see chunks of the surrounding structures she didn't know what they were. They were maybe a floor up so she couldn't see over the roofs, but the company was better than the exterior anyway. She looked his way and smiled. “Maybe you can describe it for me...”

Before he could begin, a waitress in a suit and tie stopped at their table with menus and she took one with a thanks. The woman asked if they had dined with them before and she let Charles do all the talking. She listened as he ordered himself some kind of wine she didn't know of and just water for her. She spied the prices on the appetizers and her eyes could've popped out of her skull. She slammed the booklet closed before she could control her actions.

“Are you alright Samara?”

“Yes!” She squeaked, face flaming. “Fine! W – water is j – just fine!”

'Oh my gosh, I might have made a terrible mistake!'

The waitress left and she brought the menu to her face, lightly slapping her forehead with it. “Charles...” She mumbled, feeling more than chagrined for ever thinking it was okay to let him buy or even set foot inside this place. “I'm so...so sorry!”

“For what Samara?”

She peeked a furrowed brow over the menu and cringed his way. “Thirty d – dollars for a shrimp cocktail?! I d – don't even know what's in it, but that's m – more than I make in a whole hour! I feel horrible! Maybe this was a bad idea... No...I kn – know it is.”

He gave a small sigh and gently took the menu from her face and set it on the free space next to her arms. He slowly took a hand in his and rested their palms together. “Don't concern yourself with the finances Samara. It doesn't bother me to pay such a thing this one time.”

“This i – isn't once Charles. You had to do this b – before because I w – wasn't thinking!” She negated, not feeling any better. “I d – didn't mean to put you out so much...”

His head shook and he patted her hand a little. “Samara, if you were to inconvenience me, I would have not agreed to such a thing in the first place.” He suddenly smiled, head tilting a little. “Surely you'll allot me this one time to spoil you just as you are spoiling me now.”

She flushed and looked to their hands, feeling her heart race. His hands were warm and she felt very aware of where their skin touched. It felt nice, even if she wasn't used to it. She wanted to pout when the waitress came back and set a glass of red wine in front of Charles before filling the empty glasses at their table with water. The waitress looked at them both and asked if they were ready to order, but Charles asked her to return in a few moments after they had time to peruse the menu.

“Please don't concern yourself with the prices Samara. Get whatever sounds appealing to you.”

She flipped around a bit, lips closed tensely and jerked her gaze to his averted one when they landed on the steaks. “F – fifty dollars for a steak?!” She hissed, trying to keep quiet.

“Don't worry about that. Please get what you are hungry for.”

Honestly, it all sounded fantastic, but she was almost starving. Her nerves spiked the moment she left and she wasn't in the mood for anything since she managed to leave work early. Now that things were settling down a bit, her stomach was starting to give tell-tale signs of rumbling soon. A thumb met her teeth as she flipped through the whole thing, trying to find an entree that wasn't that costly.

She finally decided on one of the lesser items, finding out from the waitress that any of the vegetables in that section were extra. She was so tempted to leave it at the herb roasted chicken, but didn't know the portion size and her eyes were bigger than her stomach right now. She gave in to Charles's earlier statements and ordered a baked potato, floored that it was fourteen dollars for just one.

She handed over the menu and let Charles do the same before silence descended. She fingered the water glass, thumb still gnawing on a nail as she felt too nervous to look his way despite how she couldn't really see him.

She jumped when his hand came into view and gently took hers away from her teeth.

He noted marks on her skin and looked her way, leaving their palms to rest on the table. “There is no need for such anxiety Samara. I promise you that this doesn't bother me and that's the last I'll say on the subject.”

“I – I'm sorry Charles. I d – don't m...mean to be so n – nervous.” She finally looked his way, brows furrowing upward.

“ _Take a few deep breaths. Have faith in yourself. Like I said, confidence is attractive.”_

She tried to inhale as quietly as possible as Monica's words floated through her brain. There was so much she was already failing on that it might have been better for her to just cook in the dress as silly of a picture that it might be. She had instigated this and was seriously reconsidering it all. The initial burst of self-assurance faded once they walked into that building and she didn't know how she was going to be able to speak, let alone without stuttering.

Then there was the topic of her breathing exercises that she wanted to ask him about.

He watched her face heat up just before she looked away, felt her fingers tremble. He found it disheartening watching her revert to how she had been just as they started working together to banish such behavior. Such physical signs were always telling behavior that something was bothering her and she was hesitant to speak her mind. It was a good thing he had no qualms about getting it out of her however. “What's on your mind Samara? You seem troubled by something.”

Her eyes jolted to his, feeling her heart race. She was suddenly glad for the occasional breeze that cooled off her back because she sorely needed the temperature difference right now! “I...” Shoulders hunched to her ears as she recalled Monica's speeches up until she left and she took another deep breath to calm down. “I kn – know it's kind of r – random, but...I was j – just thinking about those b – breathing exercises you w – wanted me to do before you start to teach me anything.” She eyed him and he nodded for her to continue. “W – well...I d – don't really know how l – long it'll take for me to get better at those. I didn't w – want you to wait too l – long for me to get control of my asthma. I don't want to w – waste your time by waiting for n – nothing.”

“Only an impatient man waits for nothing.” He responded, eyes serious. He took in the usual timid stance and knew he needed to prod her in a different way than usual honesty. “I am not going to rescind my judgment on your health however. I'm unsure as to what you need to do for those, but I can't imagine they're a quick thing.”

“W – well...” She took another deep breath again, teeth biting her lip despite the lipstick. “I thought that...maybe y – you could...help me w – with them? Somehow...I d – don't know how though.” She quickly looked away, feeling bad. “But...I've ask s – so much from you already. You've done so m – much to help me and you've n – never really asked for anything from me yet. I d – don't even know w – what I could do for you anyway. I c – can't even s – speak without tripping over my words. Compared to you, I'm p – pretty pathetic.”

She was...precious. There was no other word to describe it. He felt his heart expand in his chest at the devout emotion she exuded and he was touched by it. He wasn't going to lie and say she left him unaffected with that morose look on her face. She truly felt awful in thinking that everything he slightly coerced her to do was only for her benefit.

He was proud of how well she had done over the weeks. She showed vast improvement and there weren't so many setbacks as in the beginning. The match he struck had started into a bonfire that led her to make herself up for his sake with them sitting at a high-end dinner table and discussing how they could merge her breathing with what she wanted him to teach her.

It was possible. It might tax him to take baby steps, but she was worth it.

“I disagree Samara.” He quietly responded. “Your companionship is more than enough for me right now. Your innocence, your purity, your trust...they mean more to me than you might think. You are special in a way you perhaps don't comprehend because you don't carry much faith in yourself.” His lips twitched, eyes soft. “You have shown remarkable improvement to be able to say such words to me. It makes me proud to see how well you're doing.” He sighed and looked to their hands. “As for your asthma attacks, I feel that they seem more infrequent. I conceive that there might be a way to help you with them, but it may be more of a means to normalize you to such things. Your stuttering seems to stem from anxiety and new situations. Once you are familiar with them, you will be able to remember how you originally reacted and can adjust accordingly. You've already shown this in the past.”

He was right. She had been having less attacks lately. All of the self-love practices did a lot.

His other hand draped itself over the back of hers, a thumb stroking her skin slowly. He felt her tremble and mentally decided on a short-term course of actions with her so the evening didn't sour before their food even arrived.

“Why did you decide on such items for tonight? Are you a fan of chicken in general?”

She blinked, brow raising in confusion. It offset the racing of her heart and she was thrown outside of her emotions. “Ah, well...I guess I like it well enough. I admit t – that I didn't want to pick s – something too expensive.”

He gave a hum. “Did you leave work early today so that you could spend more time getting ready for tonight?”

She gave a demure grin. “Yea... I swear I finished all of my work though!”

“I believe you.” Pause. “Do you think you'll wear more dresses like this in the future?”

He had perfectly jostled her outside of herself to the point that she could only stare at him in confusion and hardly noticed the thumb still moving over her skin. “I...well I don't really have anything this nice. I...if you want me to... I think I might have some in my closet. There's no reason to wear something like this to the office though.”

“Is there a reason why you decided to pick tonight instead of waiting for Friday night?”

“Ah...well, I knew if I waited too long I'd fizzle out and talk myself out of this. Or be too nervous to want to do this again.”

That was one reason. The raid night was another, but she wisely kept quiet on that one.

“Charles...what's with all of the random questions? I know I'm horrible at small talk, but you don't need to do all this.”

He smiled, looking to their hands. “The fluidity in your speech vastly improved as I took you from your inner turmoil. Your shoulders relaxed, your face isn't quite as red, and your hand is no longer trembling in mine. All from a few random questions. You didn't even notice that my thumb was continuing its actions. In rerouting your thinking, you became accustomed to what I was doing.” He paused and released her hand. “How is your breathing doing?”

She took mental stock of how she felt, aside from her hand feeling very empty once his let go. Disappointed was on the tip of her tongue and she looked to her hand where she let it rest before slowly pulling it to her lap. “I'm fine.” She smiled at him. “I'd like to call you a genius, but it feels too over the top.”

“I'd hardly consider such words necessary.” He smiled, heart warming at her words. “Perhaps such small things are warranted until your asthma is no longer a worrisome topic. After that, more extensive 'teaching' may be plausible.”

She harshly swallowed, giving a small nod. She didn't know what to say to that and was thankfully saved mere seconds later with a large tray being setup near their table. She rested her hands in her lap, spreading out the napkin Charles suggested she put there for the safety of the silk. Once the waitress mentioned she'd be back later to check on things, there was nothing but heavenly aromas for her nose.

“I'm starving!” She blurted out, mouth clamping down as she cringed his way.

“Feel free to dig in Samara.” He chuckled. “Iechyd da.”

She grabbed the necessary utensils with his help and looked at him, hands hovering over the plate. “You've said that before. What does it mean?”

“A more direct translation is 'good health', but it can also be 'cheers'.”

“I...aye...ki...da?”

She was adorable. He smiled. “A good attempt. Welsh can be challenging for many. I too have issues with some of my mother's vocabulary. Her emails have been increasingly troublesome lately.”

She leaned forward a little, the prospect of hearing more about his life exciting. “Is your mother well? You've mentioned her a little, but I didn't want to pry. Is...now okay?”

He smiled and focused more on the conversation than the steak he had ordered for himself. He answered anything she asked of him. It seemed that one explanation led to another question and he indulged her as much as he could. The camaraderie was nice and he kept setting aside his meal for it, soon forced to get to it as it was getting cold before he could finish it.

Her questions were almost excited and she never stumbled upon her speech once. It was like every word that formed the next consecutive question built upon the other until she forgot where they were, how she was dressed, or that she was the one making most of the conversation. He let himself open up for tonight, feeling...knowing it was okay to do so around her. She looked really interested in what he had to say and he lost himself in her nativity, finally getting a confession of what she did most Friday nights. He gave in to teasing her just a little over it, letting out the laughter she inspired in him with her reactions.

It felt good and while he agreed to tonight primarily for her sake, his own was creeping in. It had perhaps started stacking up the moment she opened the door and didn't move away from the light kiss earlier. To walking with their arms interlocked and smelling the perfume that seemed to fit her. To all of the little things she was going along with per suggestion and not shying away, like with the glasses. To the realization that there were mutual feelings piling up for each other the more time they spent together outside of work.

Somewhere in the back of his subconsciousness, there was a clink of a link breaking apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charles tux: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/117304765281333329/
> 
> I have decided on Charles's cologne! The brand is Aura Cacia 'pillow potion' essential oil blend of: lavender, orange, hops, patchouli, yarrow, and chamomile. It's soft and once it evaporates a little is fantastic!
> 
> https://www.mastrosrestaurants.com/location/mastros-steakhouse-beverly-hills/ Is the restaurant I used for reference.


	11. lesson one start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He chuckled, hand pressing flat against her bare back. Her body language shifted instantly and he watched her eyes widen and her face turn crimson. “Now, now Bunty. Such chain of events shouldn't be regretted. It certainly wouldn't have brought us here, now would it?” His face lowered a little. “I definitely wouldn't have given in to you so willingly had I not seen for myself the things you are capable of.”

Once dinner was taken away and a dessert in expectation, she finally decided a quick peek at the skyline and put her glasses on. The sunset was perfect with the near cloudless sky above and she wanted to properly take in the pink hues on the clouds much better than what she had so far. She stared for such a long time in silence, but it didn't feel uncomfortable. This was probably the best night she ever had...ever had with him. She wanted more of these and quickly turned to him, finding him watch her. She flushed a little, but took probably her millionth deep breath for courage and leaned on the empty space in front of her a bit.

“Charles, I've had probably the best night of my life. I can't thank you enough for going along with this.” She smiled, letting herself give in to reaching her hands across the space. The lamp had been moved to the railing and was out of the way for her to take the hands he presented in her own. Her chest felt...odd, but she relished in the feeling that swarmed her entire rib cage. “You are so sweet to go along with this. In paying for me.” Her hands rose as she leaned forward a little more, resting her cheek against his fingers. “You have my gratitude for indulging me. I don't think a night like this will ever happen again. I'm glad it was with you. I'll remember this always.”

His face felt like it was on fire. He was touched and his hands were highly attuned to her breath. He let his arms rest over the empty space, the smile unable to leave his face. His chest was hit with the gravity and depth of her honesty. He took it all in, bundled it up, and stuck it in his mind for later use.

Somewhere in the breath of silence, a loud crash sounded, the disintegrating rubble making noise as if in the distance. Light poured in and his heart peeked out around the hole in the wall it had been living in for years, curious and yet slightly intrigued at what lay beyond.

“You are welcome Samara.” He murmured, head tilting as he took in the glasses look with her attire. It was unclear which look he preferred more. “It was my pleasure and I'm glad to have helped. I feel like there has been much progress made tonight and I'm proud of you for your openness of conversation and emotions.”

She beamed, ducking her head modestly. “It's all thanks to you Charles. I wouldn't be here without you, literally and figuratively. Make sure you include yourself in all of that somewhere.”

He grinned and snuck a hand from hers to reach up a little more and lightly clutched a cheek. It was hot and her eyes widened, but he gave in and let his thumb stroke her skin just once. “Perhaps a fifty-fifty then. I might have attempted to aide you, but had you not taken it upon yourself to want to change, we certainly wouldn't be in this place right now. You certainly would have pulled away from me already.”

Her lips pressed together, head leaning toward his fingers a little. She closed her eyes, skin memorizing his touch. It felt good and kept that strange feeling in her chest going. Her hands trembled a little against his other one, but she didn't fight that. She pinned him with a soft look, lips tilting to match his.

She wanted to cry when the desserts finally showed up.

She felt the separation of his hand as if a physical removal of a warm blanket on a winter evening. Her cheek felt empty and cold and she actually pouted for a second until she looked down to the piece of chocolate cake she had ordered. “Wow, this looks fantastic.” She exclaimed, eyes lighting up.

The plate was beautifully decorated with chocolate sauce to the point where it looked like the actual design of the dinnerware. The piece wasn't overly large to where she needed to force herself to finish it. There was a strawberry on top and she quickly took it off to pop it in her mouth. “This is so good! Would you like a bite? I don't mind sharing.”

He looked up from the endeavor to spear the end of his cheesecake, brow going up in amusement. “If I wished to purchase the same thing, I would have done so Samara.”

Her lips pressed together with a timid smile. “Ah...well...I kind of wanted to...try yours too...”

He chuckled, shaking his head. He pushed the untouched dessert her way, head tilting back a little when a fork was suddenly presented in his eyesight, bite available for his mouth. He gave her a wry look, not taking the bait and pinched the fork instead to take from her. He passed the utensil back her way once it was empty and let her use it on the cheesecake. She took a bite and covered her mouth as she chewed, eyes wide in appreciation. He took his plate back, grabbing his own fork again. “It must be good if the look on your face is any indication.”

“It is!” She expressed once she could do so without spitting food. “That's a lot of fresh fruit you have too. I think we both chose well this time. Although the ice cream was really tempting.”

He watched her dig into the dessert, enjoying her gusto with food and happy she liked it. He was pleased that the night turned out so well. He didn't think he'd find this much delight in such a time, but it had been much more fun than he conceived it to be. It made swallowing a bill in the hundreds a little easier.

She left her glasses on when they exited the building, figuring she got to show off enough and it was okay to be able to properly see again. She looked around the building as Charles helped her down the stairs, eyes wide as she approached the waterfall somehow crafted into the window. She stared at it when they passed the main entrance and the valet was getting Charles's car. The waitress probably already informed someone because it didn't take more than a minute from wherever it was stowed. She let Charles help her in and buckled her seat belt, watching him round the front of the car.

'I don't want this to end.' Teeth nibbled her lip as he closed the door behind him then reached for his seatbelt. She eyed the twiddling fingers in her lap, feeling her eyes want to tear up. 'I don't want to leave. Maybe I should have ordered a coffee so we could stay longer. I don't want to go back home just yet. I want to have more fun...spend more time with him.'

He was about ready to put the car in gear when a sigh reached his ears. He looked over inquisitively, brow up at how distressed she looked. “Samara, are you alright?”

Her shoulders slumped, head following. Her hands clasped together as she mentally told herself to talk to him. He seemed to have enjoyed her company tonight as much as she enjoyed his. She didn't want to put him out anymore than she already had, but she wanted to be selfish some more. “Charles...” Her eyes squeezed shut. “I...” Her eyes popped open as a hand lightly rested over hers. She looked his way, brows furrowed upward.

“What's on your mind Bunty?”

She couldn't stop shaking, but it felt kind of nice in a way. Her mouth opened and closed once before she looked away to the building they left, unable to face him. “I...I want to be selfish.” His hands were warm and her attention focused on it. “I should've ordered a c – coffee. Eaten slower...walked s – slower.” Sad eyes darted to the silk over her legs. “I don't want this night to end.” Her eyes squeezed shut again, face hot. “I've already spent such a g – glorious time with you, b – but...I don't want y – you to leave.” She was shaking like a leaf when she pinned him with the entirety of her emotional turmoil. Sadness, hesitation, desire, longing. “I know you need to g – get to sleep tonight...b – but I don't want you to go.”

She looked like she wanted to kiss him. She had leaned toward him noticeably, inched at a snail's pace as she spoke as if doing so would prevent them from heading out. The yearning in her eyes made him take a deep breath to calm his heart.

It wasn't as late as it could be. It was barely eight; the night was technically still young. He supposed that it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to give her what she was asking for. “Far be it from me to deny you Samara. It is still early I suppose. What did you have in mind?”

Her heart leapt in her throat, then proceeded to race circles around her ribcage. Her entire torso seemed to tremble at the open, yet suggestiveness of his question. Her brain immediately proposed an option and her face flamed at it. Her tongue darted out over her lips nervously, but she noticed his eyes follow the movement. “I...” She cleared her throat, but trying to take a deep breath to calm the adrenaline in her system was like trying to throw rocks in raging rapids to halt their flow. “C – could...we m – maybe...work on m – my...breathing exercises a little? At y – your place?”

His stomach could've dropped through the car. As it was, the racing in his veins which he was familiar with crept through at a quickening pace. He stared at her in silence, his face even as he pondered the gravity of her words. Tried to see into the next hour or so and know if it was a good idea or not to take her up on the offer. She didn't move, didn't turn away, despite how much he could feel her shaking.

Hopeful, nervous, naive, trusting, yearning.

His fingers were dead weight, his tongue useless as he tried to answer her. He tried so hard to envision the future and it only ended with her quiet moans in his ears. The one she gave him in the car after their first kiss, echoing in his ears even now.

He cleared his throat and looked away, taking his hand away from hers and putting it on the wheel. He couldn't upright the off-settled feeling, nor deny how nice it felt as it tried to take him over. “My place is perhaps a bad choice Samara. I...will accompany you back to yours though.”

The only thing that kept her from melting through the seat was the car being put into drive and jostling her both physically and emotionally. His last sentence rang in her ears and catapulted her heart back into her apartment where it was already waiting for their arrival. She only managed a choppy nod, not knowing whether or not he saw, eyes fixated on the hands she was white-knuckling in her lap.

“Take a deep breath in Samara.”

She jolted and looked over, finding his eyes darting between her and the traffic again. She blinked, but did as requested and exhaled in a whoosh.

“Good job. Again. Exhale a little slower this time.”

She did as he instructed, breathing in and out every time he said to do so until her heart clearly slowed and her shaking subsided a lot.

He waited to give her proper attention once they reached a red light. “I am proud of you Samara. You have passed with flying colors on a first trial.”

She tentatively smiled his way. “You're a g – good teacher.” She mumbled, unable to think of anything else to say.

Her place wasn't too far from the restaurant and it seemed much quicker than she thought. He was already helping her out of the car and lending his arm to her steps. She pulled away once they reached the staircase. “I think I can at least manage the up part Charles.”

“As you wish Samara.”

One hand grabbed the dress, the other on the railing. She could hear him right behind her on the steps and it didn't help add to the fact that every step they went up brought him closer to inside her apartment to do whatever he felt was fitting for now. Her legs started shaking so much that she missed the next step up and almost face-planted on the way up.

Would have had his arm not shot out and latched around her waist in time.

His arm easily spanned her entire middle and cradled just under her breasts, although unintentionally. He held her against him as she steadied herself, feeling her back shake and getting prime view of the curve of her neck that was more tantalizing than he ever thought it could be on a woman. Pressing up against her like that was new and she fit nicely. He held himself in check with harsh admonishing that she could have injured herself and now was not the time to indulge any fantasies which cropped up.

“Are you alright Samara?”

“Y – yes...” She almost shrank away from him and hugged the stairs, looking his way with a cringe. “I'm sorry Charles.”

“A simple mistake. This should rectify that.”

She took his arm silently and humbly, steadying herself on him and keeping her eyes on the stairs ahead. She harshly swallowed when they reached her floor and felt herself tremble again. She could almost feel her heart dashing out of the door down the hall, running up to her and screaming in anticipation, then taking off again for the living room. She tried to take a few deep breaths, but nothing was working. All of Monica's coaching didn't prepare her for this. She had nothing but her previous experiences with Charles which left her just as shaken and tossed around. There was nothing involving confidence or familiarity in this.

It took almost five tries to get her key into the lock because she kept missing.

She let him pass her and almost snuck the door closed behind her. There was a bark that jogged her so much she yelped back and whipped to Bowser wagging his stump of a tail at her excitedly. She gave him a grateful smile and picked him up in a tight hug. “Did you miss me Bowser? I'm sorry, but do you think you can wait for a little while longer?”

“Do you need to see to your dog Samara?”

She looked over little ears, ignoring the lick to her chin, finding Charles draping his jacket on the counter top. She looked back at Bowser in hesitation. He went out before Monica came over, but might need to go out again. If she didn't do so now, later wasn't going to be any better. She didn't like being in the park at night and sometimes he took forever to find a pee spot.

But, it might be the nerves release she needed to walk around the park after instead of before.

“I think he can handle another thirty minutes or so. I took him out right when I got home from work before five.”

Charles came up and extended a palm to Bowser, small smile on his face. “We meet again kinsman.” His smile widened when Bowser stuck his paw out and shook. “He's a very nice dog. You must be proud.”

She snuggled Bowser again, pressing her face against his and using him as a distraction to calm down. It worked immensely and she was now grateful to be at her own place rather than Charles's. Here was home and a comfort she unconsciously latched onto. Charles's place was nice, but there was nothing she could do there to take her mind off things. Here, she could get a drink, make a snack, or let her dog intervene if she wanted.

“He's such a good boy. He's been the best company over the years.” She gently put him down and watched him trot over to his princess toy. She smiled and watched him pick up Peach, suddenly jerked to the elephant in the room when Charles suddenly embraced her. “Charles?!”

“Now that you've calmed down, I surmised it was time to edge you back into things. I would rather you not be a nervous wreck for any of it though. It reduces the pleasure level if you can't enjoy this as you ought to.”

Her fingers gripped the inner jacket, smelling his cologne and staring at the ruffles of his shirt. She inhaled it and dared a look at him. “I really like your cologne.” She murmured with a shy smile.

He couldn't help but tease her. “You told me very openly in the restaurant after that drink.” He grinned.

She slammed her forehead into his chest with an annoyed cry. “You're not going to let me live that down, are you?! I'm really beginning to regret ever having had that!”

He chuckled, hand pressing flat against her bare back. Her body language shifted instantly and he watched her eyes widen and her face turn crimson. “Now, now Bunty. Such chain of events shouldn't be regretted. It certainly wouldn't have brought us here, now would it?” His face lowered a little. “I definitely wouldn't have given in to you so willingly had I not seen for myself the things you are capable of.”

Her heart screamed in ecstasy as it bounced around the room and hit every wall available. She wanted to cringe at how loud it was being, but it was quieter than she thought for the look in his eyes. She shook in his arms but he either paid no mind or was ignoring it. His face was so close he could've kissed her, but he didn't. His hand was warm on the cold of her back and it felt good. She made mention before of how big his hands were before and they seemed to engulf her skin. She harshly swallowed as she waited for him to cut the last few inches and either put her out of her misery or increase it exponentially.

His lips slowly curled into a knowing smile, arms increasing their pressure a little to keep her next to him. “Breathe in Bunty. Your heart is racing.”

She tried to do as commanded, but the intake wasn't enough and the exhale was shaky. She harshly swallowed, listening as he made her repeat herself a few times. It was like throwing bricks in a canyon; not doing anything to help and yet a valiant effort.

“Good job Samara. Another exercise for you.” His face inched closer. “Can you describe your emotions right now?”

That would require thinking and her brain had burnt to a crisp from her face moments ago. Her hands clutched at the purple jacket in a death grip, shaking harder if that was possible. She forgot to breathe gulping in air whenever she remembered to. Her eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets as it were. All the while, he seemed calmer than he should be for her front pretty much draped over his.

“Upset.” She blurt out, blinking in confusion as to that being the first word that popped into her head.

“About what?” The corners of his eyes crinkled.

“You.” She scowled. “You're not b – being fair.”

“Pray tell, how so Bunty?”

His hand inched up to her shoulder blades.

Her jaw clenched and the air left her in a whoosh. Her eyes darted around his dress shirt, brain trying to find its way back to her. She tried to remind herself that he was here to teach her, but he was exasperating and enticing at the same time. All he had to do was stand there in his magnificence and he could turn her around. “You...you're -” Her lips pressed together. “So mean. T – teasing me.”

A brow went up. “And what would you like me to do instead?”

A great deal of things went through her head, most of them stemming from the websites she watched not too long ago. Any of them were desirable, and yet she didn't think she'd have the guts to do them. But, there was one thing that she did know was okay... “Kiss me.”

“As you wish Samara.”

His lips captured hers instantly, pressing her against him almost tightly and crushing her arms. The hand that had traveled partially north finished its journey to the back of her neck. He was careful not to muss the hair she had spent so much time on earlier and clutched her neck around the pearls.

Her veins were drunk and getting drunker when his tongue stroked her lower lip. She moaned into his mouth as she gave access, feeling his arms tighten in response. Every nerve ending quivered ready to explode as she touched his tongue shyly, continuing as he seemed to press her. He didn't give in, didn't lessen the insistence any. His cologne met her nose and she felt her knees give out.

He broke the kiss when she stumbled against him and steadied them both. He listened to her haggard breathing, feeling her clutch his clothes, and her chest press against his tightly. He took a subtle deep breath for his own control, although returning to his senses much quicker than she did from his expansive 'education'. The hand at her neck gently massaged it, ears tuning in to her breaths. “Inhale slowly Samara.”

Her eyes popped open, but everything seemed fuzzy and out of focus, though her glasses were still on. Her mouth was dry as a desert as she tried to comply, randomly focusing on the hands stuck in their attempt to rip the jacket apart.

“Good. Now repeat that two more times.”

The seconds helped and despite being in his arms like she was, it felt more like like she had imagined the whole thing and worked herself up over nothing. But her fingers were still locked and she honestly couldn't move them. “Ch – Charles...I need your help with m – my hands.”

He looked down as far as he could, seeing her wince a bit, and released her. He gently pried one off and briefly massaged the digits to relax the vice grip before doing so on the other. He stood there with her, bringing both sets of knuckles to his lips softly.

She watched it all, stone under blue skies that she could lose herself in and blissfully so. The look in his eyes was hungry, serious, and yet slightly inquisitive. She couldn't say anything to break the spell he wove over her with just a look. She wanted to remain like that all night, but he pulled his mouth from her fingers and freed her.

“What are you feeling Samara?” She blinked dumbly, a brow going up. Her mouth opened and closed without words and he smiled. “I can surmise a few things for myself, but it's best if you do so instead of me. Putting words to those things you experienced will help you remember them when they show up in the future.”

He was helping her. It hit her over the head again that he was here to teach her despite how much she was getting lost in him. He was merely doing as she asked.

She took a step back to think, hands gently pulling from his. Her brow furrowed, but it was hard to find names to this...to any of it. “Hot.” She mumbled, a thumb coming to her teeth in habit. “But...not just my face.” A hand flattened over her chest just under the necklace and her fingers spread to cover as much as possible. “It feels...pressed. Like...something is pushing from the inside out. Or maybe...my heart is running around in there. I can feel pulse it in my hands.” She held her palms up and idly stared at them. They shook for her, but not as bad as when Charles was touching her. Her lips pressed together as she tried to focus on other spots. “My stomach...it feels like there's a rock tugging it down.” An eye squinted in confusion as she recognized what she was saying sounded really odd. “I know it doesn't make any sense.”

“If it makes sense to you, that's all that matters Samara.” A hand came up and tenderly cupped a cheek. “I suggest you think of these sensations more often so that you acquaint yourself with them and come up with names for them.” He smiled, bracing himself for what his next words were going to set off. “I think this should end our first lesson for the night. I will accompany you on taking your dog outside before I head home.”

She blinked at the drastic change in subject and wanted to stamp her foot. Her frown seemed to crash through the floor, brows furrowing up. “So soon?” She blurted out, face heating.

He smirked. “Remember Bunty. These lessons are for you. You can't handle anything more intimate. I suggest you relish the small things. Once you become accustomed to them and your reactions aren't as strong, I'll test you on other things which do.”

Visions of him shirtless, of him laying in bed in his pajamas as he looked at her, of her pulling his hand to her torso, of the porno websites filled her mind. She was grateful and mortified that watching them didn't give her a nosebleed like she felt she could do right now. She didn't need to be teased anymore than he already did!

“I imagine you'll want to get changed into something more comfortable. I'll wait out here as you do so and keep your dog company.”

She looked to the bedroom and harshly swallowed when a thought hit. Monica had dressed her and she never bothered to memorize how to remove every piece. The belt that was put on had strings in the back that she knotted and then there was the low zipper her arms weren't long enough to fumble with. “Ch – Charles...I might need your h – help with...the dress first...”

He looked to the back she suddenly presented. The hunched shoulders at her ears and the waist he bet her could put his hands around. He stared for a second, mentally bracing himself to get through partially undressing her, then moved his hands to gently tug the strings.

Her face was on fire again, hands wringing together in the onslaught of nerves. The kiss was bad enough and now she was going to let him subject her to this? It was insane...and delectable.

He managed to undue the belt and slid it around to her hands. He let her hold it as he found the zipper and gently gripped the top. He didn't mean to slide it down as slowly as he did; it just happened.

As did his mouth dropping to her shoulder.

Everything she tried to explain to him increased tenfold. There was a jolt somewhere low in her gut and her head fell back to the safety of his chest, neck falling the opposite way to allow him access. The teeth of the zipper sounded much louder than necessary and it seemed like his hands transformed into a turtle with the amount of speed he was using.

His brain snapped once he saw the curve of her neck and the petite structure housing pleasure he was severely restraining himself from accessing. He gave into it just a little, finding nothing when he went to yank on the chains and toppled over in his surprise. It was like they had vanished and with nothing left to use for control as they swarmed his head and took over. He lost himself in what she inspired, languidly dragging his lips over her skin and smelling her natural scent. It was nice and her inhaled loud enough for her to hear. “You smell good Bunty...” He murmured against her.

Dear lord that depth of voice should be criminal! She exhaled a wobbly breath resting against him almost to the point that he couldn't unzip her. Their size difference made it easy enough for him to keep access, although his neck strained to meet her skin. “Charles...”

His name from her lips was more erotic than he ever imagined it could be. He suddenly realized that he was rescinding his earlier words to not test her more than she could handle and quickly finished the job. His mouth moved away and he made sure she was steady before stepping away. He quietly cleared his throat and headed away from her for the living room. “I'll wait here for you. Take your time.”

She was cold and disjointed. She watched his back that never turned her way, the hands that rested in his pockets and worried that she had overstepped her boundaries. She wanted to go to him, but noticed something off with his slacks and the light bulb went off. She rushed into her bedroom and all but slammed the door, leaning against it heavily.

She didn't think she was ready for that yet. She knew that's what she probably asked for initially and he brought up at that restaurant days ago, but it was too much too soon. She was suddenly thankful he wasn't asking that of her that quickly and was going at her pace instead of his. Her heart seemed to warm at the emotion which overtook her from this whole thing. He was doing as she asked, not demanding anything, and stepping away before he got out of hand.

She looked to her closet with a smile and let the dress fall to the floor. It didn't take much and she hurriedly stuck it on the empty hanger Monica brought it on. She quickly grabbed a bra, feeling much better with it on and threw on any kind of t-shirt and tights which she saw at the top of her drawers. It wasn't special, it was a little baggy, and it was comfy. She figured after such heated exchanges over the last few minutes, such a change might be what they both needed.

“Thanks for waiting Charles. I'm -”

She stopped in the non-existent entryway, openly eying how he had removed the bow tie and inner vest, and rolled up the sleeves to his elbows. He still looked dashing and she wanted to feel silly for going back and finding something better to match with him.

She forced her feet to near him and clasped her hands together to keep from touching him. She didn't want him to misunderstand before she could clarify her thoughts. “Sorry it's not so fancy. You'll probably be too much for a dog walk.”

“Think nothing of it Samara. You don't need to dress up for such a thing.”

Her lips pressed together. He was always making her feel good in so many different ways and his comfort warmed her again. “I...is it okay to h – hug you right now? I don't m – mean anything by it like what w – we just did. I j – just...feel like I need to hug you...”

He gave her a soft smile and opened his arms for her embrace. It was becoming a dangerous thing how much he was starting to look forward to such occurrences. The previous heat was discarded for a touching emotion which was just as nice.

“Thank you Charles.” She murmured, face buried in his chest. She didn't know if she could look at him in the eye just yet. His cologne assaulted her nose when she tried to take a deep breath. “For everything. I know I've said this a few times before, but I'm grateful you're here. That you're in my life. For how you treat me. For taking in stride all of the things I've asked of you.” Her face pulled away and she pinned him with soft eyes and smile. “You're such a kind individual and you always think of me. Even if at the cost of yourself.” She blushed a little. “Thank you for...the last few minutes. For t – teaching me. I...” She quickly looked down. “I hope that we can d – do this...again. But...if it's going to be t – too hard on you...please don't p – put yourself out on my account.”

His hand gently came up and nudged her head against his chest so he could rest his mouth on the crown of her head. His heart didn't think it could run away from its cage any faster toward the horizon that beamed so brightly it was blinding. Her words were like a beautiful meteor shower on a crisp clear night with warm sweaters and hot chocolate. Like faith and honesty that he lacked for so long. Like caring and understanding.

The hands holding the chains loosened the grip they had for so long and took a much needed break. They clinked on the ground and were silent. The cage landed with a clang, the door popping open from the lock, everything peeking past their confines as if being tricked to relax. Once the seconds passed and the embrace continued, they bounded from the structure.

His hands came out and lightly cupped her face. He felt he matched her gaze. “Thank you for those words Samara. They mean a lot to me. More than you know.” His head dipped a little. “And as far as 'putting myself out' for such intimate things with you, don't think you're the only one who gains pleasure from such acts.”

She didn't have time to do more than let her mouth fall open before his lips landed on her forehead in a chaste kiss that had her upturned. Her heart swelled, arms loosely trying to keep their form around his waist so she didn't melt into the floor. She beamed at him, getting a heartfelt smile in return before he stepped away.

“Your dog is sitting on the couch and has been watching me ever since you stepped away. I believe he has been patient enough with us. Shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charles is such a gentleman and a great teacher. ^_^ He doth protest too much. @q@
> 
> Smexy time + feelz. My usual cocktail. lol


	12. ray of sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His hand moved from the keys to gently put a chunk of hair behind her ear, kind smile on his face. “I'm touched Bunty.” He murmured, seeing her face turn a further shade of red. “Your benevolence knows no bounds it seems. Perhaps a rain check on dinner then. We can schedule in a lesson or two if the time allows. For now, you need to get back to meet your friend.”

The dawn seemed to peek in tentatively, wondering if things were okay to shine and make everyone greet the day. She could've hopped out of bed the second she was awake enough to register the change of darkness.

The day was way too early to show up and she could've slept in at least another hour before the alarm went off. But she had never felt so alive, so full of energy before. There was something of an emotional cleansing from last night and she wanted to shout to the world her happiness. She didn't know it was possible for one person to make another feel this way.

“ _Thanks_ _for_ _walking_ _Bowser_ _with_ _me_ _Charles._ _”_

“ _It_ _was_ _my_ _pleasure_ _Samara._ _It's_ _not_ _safe_ _for_ _you_ _in_ _a_ _park_ _at_ _night_ _by_ _yourself._ _”_

“ _Yea...Bowser_ _is_ _just_ _a_ _big_ _sweetheart._ _He's_ _not_ _the_ _best_ _guard_ _dog_ _in_ _the_ _world._ _Usually_ _I_ _take_ _care_ _of_ _this_ _when_ _I_ _get_ _home_ _later_ _in_ _the_ _day._ _”_

_She_ _unlocked_ _the_ _door_ _and_ _let_ _Bowser_ _run_ _inside_ _for_ _the_ _couch._ _She_ _let_ _Charles_ _pass_ _her_ _as_ _she_ _went_ _to_ _the_ _kitchen_ _for_ _water_ _and_ _watched_ _him_ _get_ _his_ _jacket._ _“_ _Do_ _you_ _want_ _anything_ _to_ _drink_ _before_ _heading_ _out?_ _”_

“ _I'll_ _take_ _some_ _water_ _if_ _you_ _don't_ _mind._ _”_

_She_ _filled_ _up_ _a_ _new_ _glass_ _and_ _handed_ _it_ _to_ _him._ _She_ _smiled_ _when_ _their_ _hands_ _brushed_ _and he_ _gently_ _cradled_ _it_ _before_ _he_ _took_ _a_ _deep_ _gulp._ _She_ _took_ _the_ _glass_ _back_ _and_ _set_ _it_ _in_ _the_ _sink_ _for_ _later_ _and_ _eyed_ _him_ _stopping_ _in_ _front_ _of_ _the_ _door._ _“_ _I_ _know_ _I've_ _said_ _it_ _so_ _many_ _times,_ _but_ _thanks_ _again_ _for_ _the_ _evening_ _Charles._ _”_

_He_ _smiled_ _and_ _stood_ _in_ _the_ _doorway,_ _noting_ _how_ _sad_ _she_ _looked_ _at_ _his_ _departure._ _It_ _was_ _adorable,_ _but_ _tomorrow_ _beckoned._ _“_ _Thank_ _you_ _for_ _the_ _date_ _Samara._ _”_

_She_ _gave_ _him_ _a_ _confused_ _look._ _“_ _It_ _was_ _hardly_ _a_ _date._ _I_ _didn't_ _pay;_ _you_ _did._ _”_

_He_ _smirked._ _“_ _We_ _spent_ _hours_ _in_ _each_ _other's_ _company_ _and_ _had_ _dinner_ _together._ _Someone_ _paid_ _and_ _then_ _I_ _accompanied_ _you_ _back_ _to_ _your_ _place._ _I'd_ _call_ _that_ _a_ _date._ _”_

_Teeth_ _bit_ _her_ _lip_ _through_ _a_ _blush._ _“_ _I'll...s_ _–_ _see_ _you_ _tomorrow..._ _”_

_She_ _didn't_ _want_ _to_ _let_ _him_ _go._ _She_ _wanted_ _to_ _cuddle_ _up_ _against_ _him_ _on_ _the_ _couch_ _and_ _play_ _video_ _games_ _for_ _a_ _while_ _with_ _him_ _watching._ _She_ _wanted_ _to_ _chat_ _about_ _things_ _they_ _could_ _do_ _tomorrow,_ _in_ _the_ _next_ _couple_ _of_ _days._ _Her_ _heart_ _ached_ _for_ _him_ _and_ _he_ _hadn't_ _even_ _left_ _yet._

_Her_ _hands_ _came_ _out_ _and_ _yanked_ _him_ _to_ _her_ _before_ _she_ _could_ _think._

_He_ _was_ _startled_ _beyond_ _belief_ _when_ _her_ _lips_ _clumsily_ _met_ _his._ _He_ _almost_ _fell_ _over,_ _but_ _caught_ _himself_ _on_ _the_ _door_ _frame._ _His_ _eyes_ _slid_ _closed,_ _hands_ _too_ _stunned_ _to_ _move_ _and_ _embrace_ _her._

_She_ _pulled_ _away,_ _face_ _on_ _fire,_ _and_ _met_ _his_ _eyes._ _“_ _A_ _l_ _–_ _little_ _payback...for_ _d_ _–_ _dinner..._ _”_

_He_ _smiled_ _and_ _a_ _hand_ _finally_ _rose_ _to_ _cup_ _her_ _chin._ _“_ _Payment_ _accepted._ _”_ _His_ _lips_ _lowered_ _but_ _much_ _shorter_ _before_ _he_ _almost_ _forced_ _himself_ _to_ _stand_ _and_ _take_ _that_ _needed_ _step_ _away_ _from_ _her._ _Before_ _he_ _stayed_ _there_ _all_ _night_ _like_ _he_ _was_ _starting_ _to_ _want_ _to._ _To_ _do_ _anything_ _she_ _asked_ _of_ _him_ _and_ _happily_ _so._ _To_ _give_ _in_ _to_ _this_ _mounting_ _selfishness_ _she_ _inspired_ _in_ _him_ _directed_ _toward_ _her._

_Before_ _he_ _erased_ _everything_ _about_ _the_ _agreements_ _he_ _crafted_ _to_ _save_ _himself_ _from_ _his_ _past_ _and_ _future_ _heartache._

“ _Good_ _night_ _Bunty._ _”_

She clapped hands over hot cheeks, wide smile on her face. She bounded into the bathroom for her mirror and took her daily meds. She stared at the small makeup bag housing her old mascara and her face scrunched up thoughtfully. It was too bad she didn't buy what she could use right now from Monica, but maybe she would have to remedy that soon. She did as best she could and pulled her closet door open with fresh eyes and anticipation.

So much of it was ugly, too big, and outdated for her new perception. The new her needed something more worthy of last night and the next nights to come. Something for Charles to enjoy and herself to keep practicing with.

Something for Charles to keep up what she unconsciously started and desperately wished to continue.

The second her eyes landed on it as her hands flipped through everything, she yanked it from its confines. A place it had probably slept for years. A garment her mother bought for her, but she had never worn. She had never been comfortable in it despite her mother's praises. Now, she knew she would be because it was a color her mother commented looked good on her and it was just her size. It was too short for her liking, too dangerous, but a pair of dark gray tights would go nicely to round out everything. She didn't need to create that nightmare with wind, with getting into the lower parts of her desk, of igniting Charles's 'knowledge'.

She always had flats, but this time dug in the back of her closet for a pair of heels that matched as close to the medium purple as possible. She thought to Monica and how she had always seen the woman wearing heels in everything except the jogging suits when she brought Marshall back from the hospital. Teeth bit her lip as she wondered what Charles would think when he saw her in them. She would need to walk a little slower to get her feet used to them and hoped she didn't blister anything. Maybe a pair of emergency flats while on the bus? She could always swap real quick before she got in the building.

There was a huge gap in the neck area, but at least the back wasn't too low cut. The chest section was a straight line and it was enough for cleavage. It was short-sleeved, but the sleeves were poofy and felt nice. She felt a little exposed at the neckline and went for the jewelry she had safely stored. Monica had wrapped the pearls around her neck she remembered and when she held it up, it looked more like one long string than a short one. She secured it behind her neck, putting up a huge chunk of her hair in order to keep it from getting caught in the clasp. She left the earrings, not wanting to pinch her ears again.

She mentally told herself it was okay to look in the mirror. Charles had done a good number on her self-esteem last night and she couldn't even recall all of the praises he gave her. She stared at her glasses, wondering if she should get contacts like Monica mentioned. Maybe. It was something to consider if she felt up to the maintenance. Poking herself in the eye with the mascara wand hurt enough and she figured she'd need to stick her finger in her eyes for contacts. Not something that sounded appealing.

She took Bowser outside, seeing the sky cloudless and crisp. She was glad for the tights for another reason and was thankful she didn't put the heels on just yet. She was really early and let Bowser burn some morning energy, and herself as well. She didn't think she really needed any coffee, but she just had to share her good mood with the world. She kissed Bowser goodbye and practically floated all the way to The Daily Grind. She probably could've carried the bus.

“Good morning Dee! Good morning Link!” She practically gushed, obviously startling them both.

“Well...good morning Sam. What's gotten into you?” Dee asked, brow up.

“You look very pretty Sam. Is there a special occasion we don't know about?” Link asked with a congenial smile.

She gave Dee her order and flopped both hands on the counter, leaning over it with almost starry eyes. “I had the best night last night!” She beamed, face warm in her exuberance.

Link's smile widened, eyes soft. “That's great Sam. I'm happy for you. Did you win in a raid or something?”

“I went out on a dinner date!”

Dee dropped Sam's cup on the floor when her torso whipped around in surprise and spilled coffee, though it missed her. Link quickly helped her clean up before the pair stared at Sam like she had grown a third head. “You?! Well...congratulations Sam.” Dee stuttered, trying to get back to the order. “Is it anyone we know?”

“Not really.” Samara flushed. “It's my boss.”

“The one you had me make coffee for not that long ago?”

Samara gave a nervous laugh. “Th – the same...”

“Well good for you Sam. I'm happy to see you in such a good mood. I wondered why you were here so much earlier than usual.”

From Link's reminder of what she did, Samara decided to order the same again. She had heard the phrase 'paying it forward' and although it was only coffee, she hoped that her excitement would pour into the dark liquid and Charles take it into himself and be just as happy as she was. She liked the idea and quickly thanked the pair, mentioning how she'd best get it to the office before it cooled too much.

She didn't remember much of the bus ride. The coffee box was warm in her lap and she stared to it, teeth biting the smile that wouldn't go away. She looked outside as the city passed her by, wondering if Charles was driving to work as well. Was he up yet? Did he shower in the morning? What did he have for breakfast? The questions kept coming as she fantasied about possibilities until she was forced to get off the bus and almost missed her stop.

She quickly dropped the heels onto the ground and somehow switched shoes without dropping the coffee or falling on her face. The first few steps felt uncomfortable and she wondered if she needed to take them off when she was at her desk so she could stretch her toes. She narrowly missed a crack in the sidewalk and took a deep breath, the near spill jogging her for only a moment. It picked back up as she waved a greeting to her usual co-workers and saw Lucy behind her desk.

“Good morning Lucy.” Samara jovially greeted.

Lucy's eyes jerked her way and she returned the smile. “Good morning Sam. Why are you here so early?” Lucy's eyes dropped down past the front of her tall desk area and she gave a mirthful hum. “Looking good today. Who's the big occasion? Wait, let me guess.”

Samara nervously tucked hair behind an ear, looking to the floor with a giggle. “Please don't. I mean...it's probably obvious by now I guess.”

“Think nothing of it Sam. I was only teasing. I think you look great. I like the ruffles at the hemline.”

“Thanks. I -” Samara suddenly looked around. “Didn't want to say too much if dad was here.” She nearly whispered.

“Oh he's in Hawaii with your mom.”

The cloud nine she had rode to work dissolved and she stared at Lucy in shock. “He is?! How many days has he been gone?! How did I not know about that?”

“Since Charles brought him to the airport that day you grabbed the chain out of his pocket. Did you check your phone for messages from him?”

That was at least a few days ago! She made a mental note to call her mother later for updates and headed to her office, mentioning Lucy could come in if she needed anything.

The coffee box went on the edge of her peripheral vision near the monitor. She stared at it, silly smile popping up and adrenaline flooding her veins. It felt nice and she took it in, trying to mentally name things as Charles instructed last night. To get used to everything before they magnified tenfold in a bit like she knew they would.

He would hopefully be here soon and she didn't want to miss the entrance to his office. She hoped he didn't mind the coffee. He had a coffeemaker at home; how much did he drink? She didn't ask him the last time she bought him any, but he took it without any complaint and promptly drank it in front of her. Her lips pressed together; she hoped this time went as well as the last. Brown eyes kept darting between the cup and her morning emails, not concentrating.

“Good morning Lucy.”

“Good morning Charles.”

She reacted without thinking. She jumped to her feet and the chair banged into the shelving behind her. She was glad there was only a smattering of books set up or the shock wave would've knocked something down for sure. She wasn't adept in kneeling in heels yet and didn't want to start now.

“Miss Young?”

She winced at the lousy start and watched as Charles further opened the door, looking highly confused. A hand rose as she rapidly waved, a cringe and smile mixing together on her face. “Ah...ha ha...good morning Ch – Charles!”

“Good morning. Why are you here so early? Is something the matter?”

She didn't miss how his eyes looked to the outfit she had on and followed her around the desk as she practically scurried from behind it for him. She watched his brows raise as he spotted her heels. Her heart was already pounding and the surge of thinking of him became a tidal wave she let wash over her. “Do you like it? I found it in the back of my closet.”

His lips twitched as she twirled once for him. “It's very becoming.”

She stopped with a bright look, smile almost hurting her face as it stretched nearly to her ears. Her hands clasped together nervously, shoulders hunched. “Thanks! I...I guess this dressing up is k – kinda fun...” Her eyes darted his way, face down shyly. “When there's a r – reason to...”

His face warmed and he cleared his throat, wanting to adjust a tie that didn't need it. The demure look, the outfit that played with sexy and modest was going to do him in and he hadn't even gotten into his office yet. He took a step forward before he could think. “You flatter me Miss Young. I accept the compliment fully.”

He was close and he smelled good as always. She liked the dark gray suit and found his tie purple. She thought it was cute that they had unconsciously matched again. He looked good in anything and the hand he rested in a pocket was more dangerous to her nerves than she thought.

Before she could tell herself she was being stupid, a shaking hand extended, palm down.

He stared at it, then her, then it. She was red, eyes on her desk, shoulders at her ears. “Is...this okay? J – just for now. I d – don't think that th – this should...be too bad. I'll b – be able to c – concentrate on work. I p – promise.”

How could he tell her no? His free hand exited his pocket, fingers lightly curling around hers, before he brought the softness of the back of her hand to his lips. She would be the death of him yet, but he was finding he didn't mind too much. It was a pleasant way to go at least. A thick ocean to drown in as he had lost himself in last night, partially working himself into a stupor he was well acquainted with and yet refused to release himself from.

“On that note, I shall retire to my own office.” He mused, letting go of her hand.

“Oh, wait!”

He paused and looked over his shoulder at her. A brow went up to find a small coffee holder presented his way with a single cup inside, hopeful eyes meeting his. He fully turned to face her, hand dumbly coming up to accept it before he could think to ask questions. He looked to it, mouth opening wordlessly.

“I know you didn't ask for it, b – but I just wanted to get you a drink.” She beamed, good mood coming over her again. It dropped a little as her previous questions arose, fingers fidgeting with the hem. “I know you have a coffee maker at your place... I hope this isn't too much caffeine f – for you...”

He looked from her to the cup and back to her. His face warmed a little again and he found himself at a loss for words. He mentally cursed the briefcase in one hand and the drink holder in the other. It was like a prison and while he wanted to put them both down and kiss her hand again in his thanks, he settled for giving her a soft look. “Thank you Miss Young. I highly appreciate the gesture; you're too kind. This will help me get through my morning emails.”

She beamed, glad he liked it. It made all of the questions vanish and everything worth it. “Good luck on your work! I know I'm going to have the most productive day ever!”

Her sudden enthusiasm was infectious and he soaked it in, let it bring his heart rate up a tad in his own stirring fervor. “Good for you Miss Young. I'll leave our doors open if you happen to need me for anything.”

She watched him leave, his exit only slightly jostling her spot on the cloud, but not for long. She stared at her computer, feeling more pumped than she ever had been for work. It was strange how a few instances with Charles could make her feel so alive. She didn't know what to call it, but she didn't bother to dissect it. She just hoped it stayed with her all day.

But, before she got to work, there was one more thing she needed to do.

_Good_ _morning_ _Monica._ _Are_ _you_ _free_ _tonight_ _for_ _me_ _to_ _return_ _the_ _dress?_ _I_ _was_ _also_ _hoping_ _I_ _could_ _take_ _you_ _out_ _for_ _food_ _as_ _a_ _thank_ _you._ _Last_ _night_ _was_ _amazing!_

_I_ _think_ _I_ _can_ _schedule_ _it_ _in._ _I'll_ _get_ _back_ _with_ _you_ _on_ _my_ _ending_ _hour_ _and_ _you_ _tell_ _me_ _all_ _about_ _it_ _when_ _we_ _meet_ _up._

_Oh,_ _and_ _I_ _think_ _I'm_ _ready_ _to_ _finally_ _upgrade_ _my_ _makeup._ _I_ _know_ _you_ _used_ _a_ _bunch_ _of_ _stuff_ _the_ _other_ _night_ _and_ _I_ _don't_ _know_ _if_ _I_ _would_ _use_ _it_ _all,_ _but_ _we_ _can_ _go_ _over_ _it_ _if_ _you_ _have_ _the_ _video_ _for_ _me_ _to_ _look_ _at._

_No_ _problem_ _kiddo._ _I'll_ _get_ _things_ _ready_ _for_ _us_ _to_ _go_ _over_ _later_ _and_ _see_ _what_ _you_ _want_ _to_ _buy._

Anticipation of a different subject threaded into the morning's joy and she found herself actually looking forward to discussing makeup with Monica. She wondered how much would be too much to gush over concerning last night, but forcefully shook her head and put her phone in her bag. She could think of that on the bus ride after work. Now was the time for action!

Oddly enough, it wasn't hard to use the energy which wrapped itself around her and channel it into the computer. She sat at her desk until she either needed to get up to talk to a co-worker, use the bathroom, get a drink, or eat. The day felt like five minutes had passed and every time she glanced at the clock on her laptop she was amazed at how many hours skipped by. Her afternoon concentration was still so good that she didn't even see Charles until he pushed the door open. She startled and hit the keyboard, quickly deleting a handful of non-words.

“My apologies for startling you Miss Young. Might I offer you a ride home today?”

She looked to the clock on her laptop and her brows disappeared past her bangs. “Is it that late already?” With a small sigh, she tossed her glasses next to the keyboard and rubbed her eyes, trying to take care of the mascara. “It feels like I've been staring at this screen for hours...but I bet I have...”

“When was the last time you got up from your seat?”

“Um...lunch? No...I think I got a drink of water sometime after that...”

He watched her suddenly swivel in the chair and grab her phone out of the bag, thoughtful look on her face. He was content to watch her and let her thoughts play out, knowing that if he wanted to know he could ask and she would most likely give them to him. He was assured of that at least. It was a pleasant feeling.

She should've left half an hour ago, but she had started in on tomorrow's work and was fully into it. She could always leave it for the day she needed to do it in she knew. Monica had texted her with a time and place, verifying it was okay. She needed to respond back, but she could do that on the way out. She saved the email she was in the middle of and looked up, finding his attention on her. She smiled a little self-consciously. “I think I would like a ride...if it's not trouble.”

“It's never any trouble Miss Young.”

She stood and looked to him across the desk, smile popping up on its own. “Thanks Charles.” She slid her glasses on her nose before turning to snatch the bag off the shelving behind her. She rounded the desk and stopped in front of him. “Ready.”

He smiled and stepped out of the way for her to go around him. He shut the lights off on his way out and followed her to the elevators to the underground parking lot.

As soon as she was in the elevator, she grabbed the phone and responded to Monica, apologizing for not seeing her texts until now and that the time and location would certainly work. She received a 'read', but not a response and knew that Monica at least had her phone on her to know things were going to happen. She didn't really need a response on an affirmation though.

“Miss Young...?”

She jumped and almost dropped the phone, face whipping up to his. The elevator was empty and he was holding the 'open' button for her. “Ah! Sorry!” She exclaimed, hurrying out past the doors. She heard his brief chuckle and scowled his way.

“Something on your mind Miss Young?”

“Oh...well, I was going to meet Monica and give her the dress back. Maybe a little food as a 'thank you' for helping me out.”

“So you do have plans then...”

She paused at the passenger side, staring at him as he held the door open for her. “Charles? Was...there something you wanted to do?” Her head tilted in confusion.

He turned toward the interior, feeling a tad let down that she wasn't available to spend time together again tonight. The notion had quickly wormed its way somewhere in his chest and he felt foolish for bringing anything up when she was obviously just lost in thought. Perhaps it was the gift this morning or all of the outfits she wore more for his benefit than hers or last night's bliss. He didn't know just when it started, but they cascaded over him and he didn't even notice until this moment. “It was just a bite to eat. Another time perhaps.”

She stepped forward, hands resting on the car door in between them. “I'm sorry Charles! I texted Monica this morning about it or I'd definitely agree to go eat with you!”

“Please don't be concerned Miss Young.” His hand swept toward the car. “After you.”

She looked in and quickly got inside, feeling horrible despite how she had already promised her evening to Monica long before he ever approached her. Dinner with Charles, probably more casual than last night, sounded just as good as getting makeup to look good for him in the future. Teeth bit her lip in uncertainty. She didn't want to do that to Monica after the woman had helped her so much. While she was now aware that Charles lived by himself, he was asking for her company for whatever reason.

When his door closed, it jogged her from her head and she grabbed the arm ready to start the car.

“Charles...I -” She paused, brows furrowed upward. Teeth bit her lip as she felt torn on what to do. She looked to the gear shift in between them, shoulders slumping. The morning fizzled out and felt like a lifetime ago. “I'm sorry. I...I wish I could go out tonight you, I really do. I w – wish I could reschedule, but I just texted M – Monica in the elevator that the time she gave me was okay. I saw she had r – read the text, so she's already waiting on me.”

“Please think nothing of it Miss Young.”

She looked to him, finding his eyes soft and wondering if his quiet voice meant anything. “I can't do that! I feel so bad. I like spending time with you Charles! Whether w – we do anything...serious or n – not. Whether it's j – just dinner or talking or a...lesson...it all makes me happy.”

His face felt like it was on fire. How could she say something like that so easily, stuttering or not?! She had pinned him with that sympathetic face, almost ready to rewrite her schedule to accommodate his whim. The dress was another lethal combo with the cleavage she was unknowingly presenting by leaning forward in the seat toward him. He harshly swallowed at the feelings assaulting him, his earlier mental dismissals to reassure himself over her plans fizzling out.

His hand moved from the keys to gently put a chunk of hair behind her ear, kind smile on his face. “I'm touched Bunty.” He murmured, seeing her face turn a further shade of red. “Your benevolence knows no bounds it seems. Perhaps a rain check on dinner then. We can schedule in a lesson or two if the time allows. For now, you need to get back to meet your friend.”

She sat back in the seat as he moved the car from its resting spot and headed to the outside. She didn't make much talk the entire ride, only able to give one word answers to anything he had to say. She told herself that later would be fine; she needed to repay Monica for what she had done. Just because she couldn't spend time together with Charles now didn't mean another night.

She waved at his car until he was out of sight and then hurried to her apartment. She mentally thanked him for helping cut a lot of time off her hands so she could get Bowser outside and maybe be a bit early. The second she got inside, she kicked the infernal heels off, vowing to stick them in the back of her closet again, and looked for Bowser. Flats to Monica today; she wanted to hurry to make the bus okay. But, perhaps the outfit would be fine to show her. “Bowser? Where are you? Let's go outside.”

He came trotting around the wall separating the living room and her bedroom. She kneeled with a smile and hugged him, letting his adorableness melt away any melancholy during the car ride. He happily panted as she scratched behind his ears for a second before putting him down. “Okay you. Walk time. But we'll need to do a quick run-through because I've got somewhere to be. So you'll need to hold down the fort while I'm gone.”

A 'quick run-through' took ten more minutes than she wanted and pretty much cost her the extra time Charles saved her by dropping her off. The dress bag was so long and she had to fold it in half so it didn't get dirty on the way down or she didn't trip on it. She rushed down the stairs as quick as possible without stumbling on them for the bus stop. She got there in time to see it turn the block and heaved a sigh, knowing she'd have a longer wait than she wanted to have. She used those extra minutes to get her breath back, taking a quick spritz from her inhaler w/hen it didn't return as well as she could get it to. The bag crinkled and she double-checked the jewelry hadn't bunched up too much in her bag before sighing in wait and hanging back from the street. The buses were pretty consistent and on time via their posted arrival times, so she knew within a minute when the next one was to show up.

Her foot was tapping in renewed anticipation until she managed to get to the place Monica texted her. She looked at it, having never eaten at the name before and headed inside. The noise was bustling, the line immediately next to the entrance. The place looked like more of a fast food joint than a sit-down restaurant, but the smells were almost as tantalizing as Charles's cologne. Her stomach started knotting its impending growls and she walked to the tables and chairs in search of pink hair. It didn't take more than a second. “Monica!”

Said person jerked to her name and smiled. “Hey Sam. Thanks for buying.”

Samara stopped near a two-seater table and smiled. “This place is...interesting. Smells fantastic though. What kind of food is it?”

“Well we can go up and you can check it out for yourself. Oh...perhaps I should carry the dress with us. It's a few hundred dollars and I don't need it getting stolen.”

She choked and gawked at Monica. “W – whaaaaa?! You didn't tell me that! Thank goodness I didn't stain it!”

“Me too.” Monica suddenly gave Samara a once over. “You look really nice. Purple certainly is your color. The tights really should go, but I know why you'd wear them.”

Samara nodded and followed Monica to the line which was gathering at the entryway. “I had heels on but they hurt my feet too much to keep on tonight.”

Monica snorted and took a step forward as the line quickly inched forward. “It just takes practice is all. I'm so accustomed to them now that I have too many colors to choose from.”

They got to the front of the line and she looked around. The front counter display was odd. “It's like a choose-your-own-adventure...but with food.” She suddenly piped up as they got to the front.

“Good evening ladies. What can I get you tonight?”

Samara listened to Monica ramble off food ingredients she had obviously ordered before. She quickly scanned the menu, giving the clerk her attention when the employee locked eyes on her. She fumbled a little bit, not knowing how much food would keep on the way home. She ended up ordering some dish with rice, beans, chicken, salsa, sour cream, cheese, and guacamole. By the time the server had it piled up, her eyes were as big as the bowl.

“I don't know if I can eat all of that!” Samara hissed to Monica.

“Those bowls double as take-out containers if you can't.” Monica reassured. She suddenly smirked. “Their food is really good so kick that take-home thought one hour ahead of us if you have any left.”

Sam handed over twenty-five dollars and received little change back. She was amazed that it cost that much and wondered just what was in the food for it to be so much. That was pretty much her entree at the fancy place she and Charles went to!

Monica plopped the dress on a bench she took up residence in and sat next to it. “Whew! That feels good. Long day at the office. Thanks for the food kiddo. I appreciate it. You didn't need to pay me back for anything though. I got Viewtube content out of you and that'll make money in and of itself.”

Samara smiled and grabbed a spoon, stirring the ladled contents together. “I wanted to.” The night came back in a rush and she started gushing about Charles's outfit and all of the compliments he gave her over the course of only a few hours. Her face flared up as she described the restaurant and the food she ate. She stumbled through wanting him to come back and felt it was okay to add the kiss, putting food in her mouth when her stuttering became too much and took that time to cool off a bit while she chewed. Monica knew she wasn't romantically attached to Charles and it felt good to talk to someone else about the physicality of the night's end without worrying about judgment.

Monica gave a hum around food she was chewing and swallowed the burrito before saying anything. “Sounds like you had a nice night out. This guy definitely seems like a keeper if he got you all hot and bothered and then stepped away. Men like that are kinda hard to come by in this day and age.”

Samara leaned over her food a little. “He's just so kind and considerate and smart and handsome. He's got the most beautiful blue eyes and he's a really pale blond and he's tall and has...has a really g – great body...”

“Wait a minute...blonde hair and blue eyes? Does he wear suits a lot?”

Samara's brow went up in confusion. “Uh...yea he does because he's got a really important job at my dad's company so I guess he has to.”

Monica sat back, fork idly picking at her food. “What was his name? It's not...Charles, is it?”

Samara dumbly blinked across the table. “Yea it is. I think I mentioned it..didn't I?”

Monica sighed and put her forehead in her hand, the meal forgotten. “Ugh...Sam...I hate to break it to you, but I think I already know the guy.”

“Y – you do?!”

Monica sat back, running a hand through her hair in agitation. “Yea. He was at the hospital when Marshall was admitted. And he wasn't alone.”

Samara's head tilted, brow raised. “Yes he was. I left before you got there, but as far as I knew he left after I did.”

“Not soon enough. He was with Marshall's sister when I found the room.”

There seemed like a huge backstory she was missing and it was not a pleasant feeling. Despite having had half of the bowl in front of her and originally wanting more with how delicious it was, she suddenly had no appetite and the spoon slowly sank into the remaining food. “I...I don't understand Monica. As far as I know Charles knows Eva from fencing. He even mentioned it to me as we waited for her to arrive.”

“Well, he got her out of Marshall's room by offering to walk her to her bike and put his hand on her back as they left. She seemed pretty happy to leave with him too. Take it from me, a woman doesn't look that ecstatic from being accompanied somewhere by a man she hardly knows. Even a pretty boy like that one.”

“ _My apologies Samara. Force of habit.”_

He hadn't started that 'habit' until just recently, when he felt secure enough in whatever relationship they were building to start putting his hand on her back to guide her to wherever they were headed to. She figured it was another one of his gentleman quirks and let him do it. She thought it was a strange notion at first, but it had grown on her.

She thought back to that night at the hospital and didn't remember anything like that happening with her. Sure they didn't know each other like they did now, but he still teased her and offered to help work on her confidence. That was it though.

Samara's mouth opened and closed a few times without any words to give. She didn't know just what she was supposed to say to finding out that Charles had relations with other women. It had only been a few weeks, a month and a half at most, since he invested the self-love exercises and lifts home. It would've been more surprising to find that he was still single after his divorce though.

“ _A guy so good looking he could take his pick of any woman he wants.”_

She called it back then in his office and it still held true. He had even been married before. She knew who he was as a person and was more mad at what had happened to him. How someone could abuse and throw him away like that. As she said, he was perfect, and only getting better the more time they spent together.

“ _In terms of what you said, I am sorry Samara, but...”_

She didn't let him finish his sentence. She didn't have the self-esteem at the time to be turned down by a second man and be able to walk away unscathed. What was he going to say? That he just wasn't interested, or in that he was already dating Eva Lawson? No...that couldn't have been right. Then why would he have kissed her and told her found her attractive?

“ _I am not looking for a companion. If you're hoping for anything serious to develop between us, then I am afraid I will have to disappoint you.”_

He was offering his body and that was all. She figured he was selling himself short because of his divorce, but the conversation at the restaurant after that never led to anything heartfelt. It was almost like he was discussing terms of a contract at work...but perhaps, in his mind, he was.

“ _When you have needs and I am available, then I would accommodate you and visa versa.”_

His face when he said that was so bland, like he was discussing boring weather and not sexual acts. She couldn't believe how he could so casually blurted that out. What if it was boring to him because he had already spoken of such heated subjects with others? With Eva?

She looked to the food, feeling it roil in her stomach a little. It almost felt repulsive to touch. She didn't know what to feel. She felt sad, but not really used since she wasn't asking anything from Charles more than what he was already stipulating. Who was she to deny what he did in his own time away from her? They weren't exclusive and she even said she didn't think she wanted that either. She even said it; she just wanted him to teach her.

“I'm sorry kiddo. I hate to break it to you...”

She jumped at Monica's interjection and quickly blinked back tears. A hand came up and wiped them away, not able to hide them with the woman mere feet away. “N – no...it's... I...” Her lips pressed together. “It's really n – none of my business. I didn't even know him that w – well and...this could've occurred before all of this.”

“I think you need to make it your business then. If you're this bummed at knowing that this guy has slept with other women just before you two got cozy with each other, you don't need any reason for Marshall's sister to come into the forefront again. It won't get better later if you don't talk about it. You two have your thing going on between you and you define it to whatever as you make it.” Monica's brow rose. “Ask yourself this question: if this Eva comes back into the picture, are you going to be okay to continue on with Charles if he sleeps with her AND you?”

'No' was urging to be screamed out, but she paused. They each had their own lives to live and were co-workers before any of this started. He even suggested they go back to being that. She didn't know what to do, think, or feel first. All she knew was that the night had taken quite the down spiral and going back home was going to be much harder unless she could find her feet.

Monica sat back and took a small enough bite of her food so she could keep talking. “Well, judging by that look on your face, I'd take that as a 'no'. I think you need to schedule a night together and sit down like adults to air out the laundry.” Monica looked down to her food, fervor dissolving a little. “Believe me when I tell you not to let that stuff fester. It can easily ruin a relationship.”

Samara blinked at the disheartened tone, startling to attention. “That reminds me! I was going to say something to you before, but there was too much excitement. Marshall wanted me to tell you 'hi'. I'm pretty sure he misses you. He looked really sad when I asked if you were in his apartment at the time.”

Monica sighed and put the burrito down. She stared at the plate for a few seconds, still not looking up when her mouth opened. “Marshall and I...are on hiatus. Recently, he felt like he had to hide who he really was from me, when it didn't matter to me whom he was. I decided to take a step away from him and really get to know him for both our sakes. I want him to be okay with who he is as Benjamin and not feel like he has to lie to me about what he wants or feels.”

Samara wiped away the tears that fell as she listened. Her heart went over to Monica's side and tried to snuggle up next to her and console her. She was envious of those two and how great they were together, but she didn't really know anything outside the exterior perhaps. It was the same mistake she made with Marshall in the beginning and perhaps she had done it a little to Charles as well before she got to know him. “Th...that's s – so sad!”

Monica's eyes jerked up at the outburst, brow going up. “Here, take this.” She mumbled, handing over the napkin. She let Samara dry her eyes, looking only slightly put out by the tears. “That's why I'm telling you to get to know this guy, past and present. If you're not okay with something, tell him. If you need something from him, let him know. He can't do what he's not capable of if you don't give him the info to act accordingly. You seem to really like this guy and it'd be a shame if what happened to me and Marshall happened to you and Charles. Learn from my lesson kiddo. Don't do what I did and let things build before it draws a wedge between you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, I can't link a direct site of Sam's attire. It's a Mongie special off her August Patreon + Discord sketchpad and I don't want to face copyright infringement since it's not available on www. She drew it and it was a recent popup on Let's Play. She's leaning against Charles with her glasses falling off and his hand is around her back. That's all I can give for links to find it.
> 
> The restaurant is Chipotle. I love that place so much! @q@


	13. what I want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wanted Charles physically. That much was true. She wanted all the advances he would give, as often as her asthma would allow. Teeth bit her lip as the dress 'episode' just the other night went through her head. She had almost wanted to turn around, let that dress plop on the floor, and throw her arms over his neck.

The night was horrible. It was past ten, but her emotions wouldn't let her sleep. There was that strange pressure on her chest and small bits of adrenaline that kept coming and going. She was shaking again from it all and clutched the extra pillow tighter to her chest. This time it wasn't as fun to let hit her and wallow in. Not with the bad that she just found out mere hours ago. She sighed yet again and shifted in bed as if she couldn't get comfortable.

She really had no right to feel this way. They had asked nothing from each other that was emotionally based. He said it; she said it. They never really set an agreement up; he merely went with her decision. He ultimately left it up to her despite his earlier suggestions and negations. They never discussed it more than once and that was a fumble at best through a bunch of misunderstandings. Nothing was compromised. Her random need for him was the only thing she was going by and he was acquiescing to it, but she didn't know just how badly she was putting him out emotionally because he never said anything.

Monica's bit at the fast food joint kept running through her head. She wondered if this was what Monica felt from miscommunication with someone and she felt sorry for the woman. Monica was a good person outside of the aura she projected. But she knew that Monica was good to those she knew, just reserved to strangers. She was like Angela that way.

Samara tried to envision a woman like Eva Lawson sleeping with Charles outside of what she personally did with him and every good thing he had spent so much time on crumbled into a pile of rubble. All the confidence he helped her feel, the threads of feeling pretty, the physical ministrations. It almost felt like some kind of cruel joke and her eyes teared up despite her head attempting to reassure her abused heart.

Was that what kind of woman Charles wanted? Eva was strong as Monica, good looking without much makeup, and confident. She was kind of scary in that intro at the hospital, but it was an emotional time. She was the direct opposite, but Charles had kissed her and admitted he was attracted to her. He wouldn't lie about that; he didn't even like it when she did it. But...he did lie to her father and say that everyone lied. He didn't seem too put out by mentioning it, although he seemed merciless in his attacking her for judging him over it and calling her out on the few times she had.

She sighed again. She didn't want to judge the woman too harshly since she had only met Eva for the span of maybe half an hour one time. She kept telling herself that it wasn't her place to dictate Charles's life. If those two had done anything intimate, it was probably long before she started worming her way in. Who was she to admonish him when she was still so wishy-washy? He was living his life however he wanted and her intrusion wasn't enough to make a dent in it. Given his history with women, she didn't have a right when she couldn't make up her mind.

She quickly scrubbed the tears away and squeezed the pillow, burying her face in it. 'I shouldn't be so harsh on him for having a life outside of me. I almost refused to spend time with him on Friday for the raid. I even lied about that too. He didn't ask any questions though; didn't say a word.' Either because he trusted her on her word or didn't care?

'What do I even want from him? We tried to talk it out, but that stupid drink kind of made things turn wonky. I messed everything up and then threw him for a loop when I tried to crawl into his bed!'

She wanted Charles physically. That much was true. She wanted all the advances he would give, as often as her asthma would allow. Teeth bit her lip as the dress 'episode' just the other night went through her head. She had almost wanted to turn around, let that dress plop on the floor, and throw her arms over his neck. She wanted him to keep kissing her neck and touch her breasts. She wanted to let him play with her like she was a Futindo game controller for as long as he wanted. She wanted him to please her and himself in return.

Teeth harshly bit her lip as that feeling swirled in her stomach again. Her arms trembled, a thumb finding its way to her teeth as usual. She gnawed on it, but it didn't hurt as much as it usually did despite the strength she was exerting on it. She was quickly warming up with her heart pounding and struggled to take deep breaths.

'What? What do I want? I don't even know how I could please him and make him feel this way so how can I expect anything from him? Sure he probably knows a bunch of stuff, but he doesn't know me. Even if my body is designed the general basic of all women.'

She was trying to walk into something huge that she hadn't even studied, taken notes, or knew the title of. She was swept away by how tantalizing Charles was and let him direct her as he often did. She was too naive on this. That one time she watched those sites had her so taken aback that people did some of those things and she freaked out.

Her eyes widened. Sites?!

She shot up in bed, feeling more awake than she was despite it tiptoeing closer to eleven. "That's it!"

She grabbed the covers and yanked them off her, startling Bowser on the other side, but didn't apologize to him. She hurried from the room, straightening ruffled pajamas and pushing her glasses up as she went. She turned on just the kitchen sink light for so she didn't hurt her eyes and pulled the screen up on her laptop. She typed in the password and bounced a leg as she waited for it to boot up. There should be a history log somewhere for her to search through since she was too mortified to save the pages to her favorites. It took all of a few minutes of hunting going by the general week she remembered and soon she had all sorts of pictures of penises and vaginas plastered on her laptop.

'Okay...what do I want... What do I want... Wait, there looks like some kind of category search option...' She clicked on it and started scanning the expansive list of terms, a lot which had her cringing, confused, or considering. 'What exactly is creampie?! DP? What does that stand for? Footjob?! There's too much to look through here!'

Her eyes kept getting wider as she realized this was a world more expansive than merely 'just sex'. There was so much listed and it was all alphabetized. It looked like there was something for everyone. She couldn't get her hands to stop shaking enough and jerking the mouse around so she could scroll through. So much of these terms she didn't know, but it wouldn't hurt to acquaint herself with some...right?

_"Next_ _time_ _you_ _have_ _a_ _three_ _hour_ _hammer_ _and_ _tongs_ _session_ _with_ _your_ _lover,_ _please_ _try_ _to_ _be_ _a_ _bit_ _more_ _sensitive_ _to_ _your_ _neighbors_ _with_ _the_ _noise."_

She wouldn't make that mistake again and made sure to put the volume so low that she could barely hear it. She didn't need Marshall knowing this on was happening on the other of the wall since she knew his bed was in the living room section. She probably didn't actually need the noise at all considering she needed the video but...it couldn't get any worse than the terminology she was already freaking out over.

She sat back and stared at the index, trying to mentally picture Charles doing some of that stuff to her. She found a section titled 'kissing' and 'rough sex' and her heart dropped before jumping back up into her throat. She gulped air for a second, feeling on fire and shifted in her seat a little. Doing that was much worse than not moving at all and she squeezed her thighs together again, exhaling a shuddery breath. She clicked on the 'kissing' section and quickly backed out when she found anything but kissing in the click bait. 'Bondage' caught her eye and she thought back on all of the nights she was tied to her headboard in some kind of corset outfit. The merged man had a whip for...whatever reason... She clicked on that and scrolled till she found some woman tied up to a table and decided on that.

Research. It was for research she kept telling herself, but she found she had leaned closer to the screen farther than she needed. She watched the man in the video place his hands in the woman and tickled her, rub between her legs, use some kind of toy, then insert himself. The pressure she kept using as she squeezed her thighs together had her shaking useless hands that felt like they needed to be doing something...anything rather than sitting there. She only blinked when her eyes hurt.

She felt...delicious. Fantastic. Needy. Unrequited. Everything had taken up residence in her torso, settling its brick frame quite well in between her legs. She rotated her hips through crossed legs, a few quiet moans escaping. She watched the man move in the woman and a few times the muscles in her thighs jerked as if he were doing that to her. She listened to the woman get louder on the video, nearly screaming when she must have climaxed. The table creaked when the man moved, going harder and faster. It reached out through the screen and followed the veins from her eyes all the way to that gap in her legs which felt so...empty.

Could Charles do any of this? Did she want him to? She thought of him and the kisses he placed on her neck not that long ago. To kiss on her lips with his tongue inside. Her chest heaved for air as she thought about all that she wanted him to do based on the video and past ones she had also watched. Teeth bit her lip hard as her hands floated into her lap. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the video as she watched the woman lay on her stomach and continue to be pleasured with the man's erection. The hands that gripped her hips and drove into the woman, moved her against him faster. He slapped her rear enough times for the red prints to show up in the video.

The video kept going and she mentally put them in that situation. Did she want him to tie her up? Spank her? She definitely wanted to feel him move like the man was. Would he be rough? Did she want that? Did she want him to bite her, lick her? She found that reciprocating to him was delectable and her hands twitched in her lap.

They hovered slowly up, choppy movements that were full of hesitation, until they landed on her breasts and pinched her nipples.

She moaned, quickly biting her lip to keep quiet lest Marshall hear anything. But the mortification of him finding out she was actually trying to touch herself was much duller than the thoughts of it being Charles's hands instead of her own. Those that massaged and pressed her breasts together, imagining those long fingers and pressing his face against them. Sucking on them as much as he had her neck.

All the air she was gulping in wasn't enough and her lungs screamed for medication.

She wheezed, upset and annoyed as she stumbled from the chair and for the inhaler in her room. She took a few shots, heavily leaning over the nightstand for control and warring with throwing it away. Frustrated tears formed as her hands clenched to tight fists.

_"At_ _mere_ _words,_ _your_ _fervor_ _caused_ _you_ _an_ _asthmatic_ _attack._ _I'm_ _afraid_ _that_ _more_ _will_ _occur_ _if_ _I_ _attempt_ _to_ _teach_ _you_ _anything._ _It_ _makes_ _me_ _want_ _to_ _rescind_ _my_ _words_ _despite_ _your_ _own_ _conclusion."_

She gave a despairing cry that spoke of unfairness on so many levels. None of that was her fault and now that she was attempting to enter the adult world, her body had restrictions on all of it. She didn't know if she could ever do such a thing and experience the pleasure that woman screamed about. Everything she felt in her own body was great and she wanted it to continue, but she had no clue. She didn't know how to touch herself or how she wanted Charles to. She was assuming he was aware based on the fact that he had slept with other women before. But she was no Eva Lawson and she was no Gwen Jones.

She flopped on the bed, the throbs of her body pulsating like the embers in a dying fire. She was able to focus on them with her face buried in the mattress for a moment and desperately wished there was anything else she could do to rekindle them.

But he was across town and most likely asleep as she should be...

She huffed, fists pushing her up as she situated in bed again, leaving the laptop as it was to go to sleep on its own and threw the covers back over her. Even if it stayed on with the video playing out and other ads popping up, she didn't care. Bowser came over, sniffing his way, and she hugged him to her. "It's just...not fair Bowser." She sniffed with a pout. “For so long I didn't even care about any of this and now that I'm starting to, I'm shut down at the starting line.”

Things slowly subsided and she was lonelier with them gone, but her head returned with Charles's words echoing his previous hesitations. She cuddled Bowser as the only other option of condolence, knowing he was right. She didn't want him to feel like she did, highly torn without release as he was forced to stop because of her condition. That wasn't acceptable; she wouldn't put him through that. From what she could see of his tux in the living room the other night, she already had him slightly bothered.

She felt a stab of uselessness and hugged Bowser a little tighter.

If she couldn't even please herself, how did she expect to give him anything? Whatever he was talking about at the restaurant sounded two-way and she was increasingly okay with that setup. The last few days had been great and she felt herself wanting to do things for him even though he had not asked for them nor expected them. It made her happy. She didn't think she'd have the courage to put her hands on him and mentally forced herself enough to initiate the goodbye kiss as it was.

Her brain down-spiraled like a rollercoaster at the thought of what he would do when she touched him back. Would he squirm? Would he moan like she did? What would he sound like? Would he cry out her name? Did she want him to? Would his voice change octaves? Would he call her Miss Young or Samara? Or Bunty? Teeth bit her lip as she tugged Bowser to her harsher than she wanted. He squirmed out of her arms and she lamely apologized, watching as he shuffled to safety on the other side of the bed and lay down in his old spot. She sighed and grabbed her pillow, torn at wanting to throw it or punch it.

Her heart was racing again and while it was already midnight, she couldn't sleep. She sat up with a sigh, wondering if she was only going to keep suffering through nights like these. This wasn't the first time Charles had her all over the place when she thought back on it. She didn't sleep after their first dinner out and all he had to do was fix her bra strap and caress a cheek. She was going to be a zombie if things like this kept up! She was definitely going to need that makeup she wanted from Monica, but she didn't even know how to apply it.

She blinked, brow going up. Monica?

Monica knew about her arrangement with Charles and could be one to ask about this. Monica had no qualms about bringing up the fact that her laptop was way too loud the first time she perused those websites; maybe they could have a frank discussion about what she should do.

Before she could reconsider, she opened up the text box and sent a vague request if they could meet again, at her place this time for safety, and sent it. She didn't know if Monica would come to her place because Marshall was right next door and she didn't want to make her friend sad about being near him, but Monica did say they were only on hiatus...whatever that meant. She wasn't comfortable talking about it in public so it would have to be her apartment or Monica's. The location wasn't the big issue; it was the extra ears nearby.

There was nothing else to do but try and get some sleep. It was twelve-thirty and she was going to be in trouble tomorrow if she didn't stop working herself up. There was no response from Monica, but she didn't expect there to be any. Monica was in dreamland like a normal human being should.

She didn't know how she was going to be able to fall asleep with her head so full, body so empty, and heart so torn. Her head wasn't helping her in the slightest. She thought it would be dawn by the time she got to sleep, but when her alarm went off, she jolted to and slammed a hand on it out of reflex. What time she actually fell asleep she had no clue. The last time she looked at the clock was the only instance she would allow herself to do so. She knew time only passed by much slower and sleep remained elusive if she kept staring at the cursed thing.

The telltale pulse low in her stomach was a sign that the merged man must have shown up in her dream again. She was too turned around to be able to remember the dream, but if she felt like this while asleep, he must have been present. She sighed and put her face in her hands. Dang that porn site research! It burrowed so far into the back of her subconscious, the merged man must have thought that was his cue to come and play with her a little. A man who looked like Link, Marshall, and Charles.

She couldn't say she really minded...

She yawned and rolled her neck a little to try and wake up. Her eyes refused to stay fully open, and there felt like a fog rolling through the back of her head. Combining with the low thrumming her body wasn't giving up on, it was a bad combo. She yawned a second time, head jerking up from her sitting position.

She wanted to go back to sleep! So much of her head screamed at her to do so, but she never set her alarm with much of an available snooze timeline. With a huff, she tossed the covers aside and then her pajamas over them. Screw making her bed right now; it was enough to drag her into the shower and get ready for the morning without feeling like a zombie from a shooter game.

The temperature helped, the pounding of the water a slight massage to get the blood moving in a good way. It threw her outside of herself enough to ponder just how much caffeine she could get away with before she got palpitations. She turned the faucet off before wrapping up in two towels, staring at the medicine cabinet. She had no zeal to put anything on although she just bought it. After the Eva and Marshall discussion, they switched to makeup and she got what Monica called the dire basics. Mascara, eye liner, foundation, and eye shadow. Monica gave her the lipstick she used on the dress as a freebie, but she didn't feel like wearing it today...or ever really. Lipstick was an odd sensation when she rarely even used chapstick.

The thought of dressing up for Charles after needing him so badly last night didn't feel like a good idea. As if he came in and kissed her hand, even within arm's reach, her imagination with him touching her through her hands would knock her over. She wanted to bang her head on the wall, but a trip to the emergency room wasn't how she felt like staying away from him right now. “I'm suck an idiot. How do I think I can focus on work without remembering what I did last night?”

“ _If_ _you_ _can't_ _keep_ _life_ _and_ _romance_ _separate_ _when_ _you_ _are_ _at_ _work_ _right_ _now,_ _it_ _will_ _be_ _difficult_ _for_ _you_ _in_ _the_ _future_ _if_ _anything_ _bolder_ _occurs_ _between_ _us._ _”_

His words to her went through her brain and she scowled across the way, feeling she could peel paint off the living room wall. She was new to this and he wasn't giving her a chance to figure things out! Course, doing so when she had work the next day might not have been a good idea either. Was she supposed to schedule these things for Saturday night only? She had the raid on Friday night and that went late; she'd be too tired to consider such things afterward. Sunday night she had work the next day. 'Am I supposed to flick this on and off like a light switch?!' Such a thought was absurd.

She felt she had always been a sensitive and emotional person. Her father was and perhaps it had either genetically or environmentally rubbed off on her. She didn't see her mother getting all bent out of shape this much and neither did Jay, but he probably stole that from her. Being in touch with her emotions wasn't necessarily a bad thing and she never considered it...until now.

She tried not to fall asleep on the bus till she could trudge her way into The Daily Grind. She let the door fall closed behind her, not really caring that second if anyone was behind her or not. “Morning Dee. Morning Link...”

“Good morning Sa – goodness! What happened? You look exhausted!”

She leaned over the counter a little for stability and tried not to glower at her friend. “Thanks Dee. I appreciate it...”

“I didn't mean to offend you Sam. Is everything alright?”

She huffed, seeing Link hand someone their order and stop next to Dee. “Long night.” She vaguely mumbled, hand rubbing her eyes under her glasses.

“I hope you're okay Sam. If you need to talk, I'm here.”

While it was nice that Link was offering his ear, he was the last one she wanted to discuss physical relations with considering she had already attempted to do so with him. “Thanks Link.” She smiled, dropping the subject by ordering a taller glass of coffee than usual. “That should get me through the morning.” She added, handing the money over.

She thanked Link again and headed outside, scurrying to the bus as she found people already getting on. She plopped into a seat, hating that she had no endurance for most of anything due to her asthma. She sipped the coffee, mentally grateful that Link made such a good cup. She didn't nod off as she feared on the way to work and got off with a few co-workers, greeting them a muted 'good morning' as they headed inside.

“Morning Sam. Goodness those are some circles.”

Was everyone going to mention that?! She gave a nervous chuckle to Lucy and paused at the woman's desk. “Do they look that bad? Maybe I should've taken the time to put some makeup on since people can see them past my glasses. Ugh...maybe I should just hide in my office all day.” She waved Lucy goodbye and headed straight for said place, closing the door all the way. She didn't need to hear Charles's voice right now and get all hot and bothered. She didn't even know what she was going to do about Monica's suggestion for a conversation, let alone a decision on how she felt concerning him and Eva possibly being a future thing.

She was grateful for having gotten a chunk of her morning work done already. It was going to help the fog in her brain that had nothing to do with coffee. She stared at the screen, head heavily resting on her palm as she scrolled through where to pick up on. Her eyes drifted closed a little and she jolted up in the seat. A hand took her glasses off and scrubbed her face to wake up. “This is going to be a long day...” She grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to up the rating!


	14. hot and bothered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She jerked to standing and remembered Monica had responded. Yes...Monica. Please let her redirect things as they needed to be! If she could somehow bundle this in a box and stuff it away on the back burner for now, maybe she could get her job done fast enough to escape Charles before she climbed on his lap in his office chair.

Why did she come in to work today? Well, there were many reasons why, but she should've just called in sick and slept it off except she didn't like dodging her job for personal reasons. She didn't the last time Charles kept her up most of the night and she wasn't going to now. She hadn't figured out anything as work gratefully took her from her inner turmoil.

The second she heard Charles's voice going in and out of the hallway whenever he left his office for Lucy, she was slammed right back into it.

He didn't come to her room all of those times he passed by, but she was paranoid that he was going to and she was going to mess something up big time. Every time she heard that lilting Welsh accent, the thoughts of him crying out her name as she pleased him or his moaning while kissing her beat her over the head and she had to walk to the window and distract herself by looking outside. She felt she lost so much work time over it and tried to make up for it, but it would only suffice so well for so long. She had to leave for lunch, water, and the bathroom sometime today.

The latest time she heard Charles talking to Lucy outside her office, his voice went through her ears, whispering questions on where she wanted him to touch her, and a fist slammed on her keyboard in sheer unanswered frustration.

A knock on the door sounded a second later.

“Miss Young? Are you alright in there?”

She wanted to say 'no' and to not enter, but he did so before she could say anything and he probably would have anyway regardless. She rested a disgruntled head in her hands, feeling her heart rate spike at his nearness though he was on the other side of the desk. This was so aggravating and while she had put herself in this situation, she was only trying to learn and there was no way to get around such a topic except delve into it! How did she satiate such curiosity and mounting desire otherwise? Have a casual conversation about it? More and more she was getting addicted to this world that haunted her day and night. It was exasperating, but she probably wouldn't hate it so bad if she were at home.

“Miss Young? Is something the matter?”

She didn't want to answer him. She didn't think she could find her voice. The back of her neck felt tense and she took a deep breath for control as she had done many times the night before.

At least his being in the same room with her gave her the answer on whether or not she would be okay with him continuing any relationship with Eva Lawson.

“ _You_ _realize_ _it's_ _not_ _about_ _the_ _first_ _time_ _it_ _happened._ _It's_ _the_ _fact_ _that_ _you_ _shared_ _a_ _special_ _moment_ _with_ _someone_ _you_ _love._ _It_ _doesn't_ _mean_ _what_ _you_ _two_ _experience_ _together_ _will_ _be_ _any_ _less_ _special_ _to_ _him._ _”_

It was really none of her business what he did outside of their time together, but the jealousy wouldn't go away. She was reminded of the old man's words on the bus and figured that his time with Eva was kind of in line with that of his ex-wife. He never mentioned any other woman when he was in her presence and focused only on her. He never gave on to any emotional conflict between her and Eva. Had Monica not said something, she probably would have never known and she was fine to let it be. The only reason there was any issue with his ex-wife was because of a simple misunderstanding that was easily resolved and gone past like it didn't exist.

“Samara?”

She startled and quickly sat back in her seat, face already red. Seeing him in a suit with his usual combed back hairstyle was nothing new.

Imagining how she'd take that jacket off his shoulders was.

“It's nothing.” She quickly bypassed, getting up from the chair and trying not to stomp to the windows again.

'Perhaps I should just set up headquarters over here for the afternoon. I do have a table for it. Using the couch instead might be enough of a difference and maybe then I could get some actual work done.' She groused. Arms tightly crossed around her torso as she slightly glared out the window, more upset with her own shortcomings than anything.

“You certainly don't look like 'it's nothing' Samara. Your posture is highly upset. Would you like to talk about it?”

He was always looking out for her welfare, even when he was turning her on her head and spinning her around. He didn't even know he was doing it this time and she shouldn't take out her mood on him because she couldn't control herself. She sighed, arms loosening their spot, but not coming fully undone. Her eyes closed, head drooping a little. “I'm sorry Charles. It's just...I'm...” A hand pinched the top of her nose, the head fog exacerbating her usual lack of eloquence. “Tired. It's been a long n – night. There's...something that I f – found out...and then there's something I did and I'm trying to get through it.” She turned, hand coming down as she turned. “I'm sorry th – AH!” She jumped back, eyes opened to find him standing within arm's reach and looking confused at her reaction. “Don't do that!”

His lips twitched through her scowl, unable to help himself. “My apologies Samara.” The grin soon fell at the mention of such a vague description which had drastically altered her mood in merely twenty-four hours. She looked quite perturbed and it didn't sit well with him though he didn't know why. All he knew was that he preferred the opposite side more. Her smile was infectious and dare he say his work went a little faster with her gifts and mood to follow him into his office. His head tilted in his befuddlement. “Is there something I can do to aide you?”

Her heart jumped up and she harshly swallowed. What could he do? She had some ideas and they ran right up to her, arms waving in desperation to be addressed. Her arms started trembling and her jaw clenched, looking him in the eyes. He was much too close for her liking and it was already affecting her to the point that she almost wanted to blurt out a suggestion for him to consider. There was a quiet mental command to grab his arms and draw him into hers, but she shushed it and quickly looked away, hand covering her mouth as if to keep it at bay.

“I d – don't...th – think so Ch – Charles...” She mumbled, the dying embers getting the kindling they needed to start burning her up again. She shuffled back a step, not needing this right now. She had spent all day fighting it and one appearance by the person responsible had her right back to last night. The thought of sitting in front of her laptop, hands pinching her breasts had her exhaling a quick, shuddery breath before she could control herself. His cologne met her nose and the night of their fancy dinner came back, fast forwarding right to his lips on her neck, his hands undoing the zipper at her lower back.

She usually had trouble expressing herself, although he thought she had come a long way before becoming his assistant. The self-love exercises had done a good number on her, but he knew he personally had a small hand to play in that. This seemed highly unlike the previous times. He watched her come unglued to an eerily similar point in his office a few days ago during their first kiss. She was looking away from him, but there was something in her eyes, in the corners of her mouth, that seemed...different. The need to know, to help her as he had countless time before...and perhaps out of personal worry for her well-being, had him taking that step forward to erase her step back.

“You seem very distraught over something Samara. Your body language is belaying your words. It must be very serious to alter your mood this much since the last time I saw you.” His hands floated out and landed on the safe zone of her upper arms, figuring that shouldn't offset her too much. “As your friend, this issue is also distressing to me. If there is something I can do, I will go out of my way to help if you would let me.”

She was focused on his touch so much that she couldn't find sentences to answer him. She wouldn't; it was too dangerous! They were in the middle of a work day and he had even warned her against this!

But he was so warm. His cologne was stuffed up her nose and it was all she could smell. He was handsome, caring, tall, outgoing, intelligent, successful...everything a woman could want and then some. He had picked her, given her his time, and it struck another chord in her heart, didn't help the addled feeling coursing through her body. Her hands inched up, scared and yet comfortable in what they had done before. They rested on his jacket as if unsure to do so and perhaps they were with the rise and fall of his toned chest that she could feel beneath his suit. She stared hard at the lapels to his suit, itching to grab it in her hands. Her palms could already feel the fabric as much as she held herself back.

“Samara. Please. Talk to me. Please tell me what's wrong.”

Her heart wasn't beating fast, but it was beating hard. She felt like she was drunk all over again as lust ran through her body at an increasing pace. Her hands flexed and grabbed his jacket.

He was startled to say the least. He looked to his suit and then a pair of eyes that had him frozen on the spot. His heart did jumping jacks for all of a second, his arms feeling dead. “S – Samara...? Wha -”

She tried to pull him as hard as her general lack of strength would let her. She worried she would crush his lips with hers as she pulled against him harshly, giving in to the tidal wave she had been making sandbags for as fast as she could to stem the tide. It knocked everything over in a second and washed her away after a day's worth of work.

She stroked his lips with her tongue and his arms encircled her back on his own, tugging her closer. She went willingly, a soft moan transferring to his mouth and mentally knocking him back. Her sudden instigation was as startling as it welcomed. She never seemed to have the courage to do so except for when he left her apartment after dinner. He mentally admitted it was a nice change of pace and he gave in to her need for longer than he probably should have.

Her palms flattened on his jacket, sliding up as much as she could with being pinned against his chest. She felt him twitch a little and continued the trek up to his neck. One hand grabbed his tie, the other settling on the base of his hair. She did what she could to keep up with his finesse, feeling on top of the world as she threatened to topple over from it all.

The fervor at which she kissed him was more exciting and he fell farther than he expected. He tried to grab the chains but found his hands empty, hearing everything he kept locked away cackle as if having their revenge. They swarmed him, covered his mind, and pushed him to her. He crashed into the awaiting tide that lavished his mouth and gripped his tie in a way he found he really liked.

He would have done more damage had a ding from her desk not saved his sanity.

She jerked back, startled to herself and yet not aware of where she was. All she felt, knew, wanted, was in her arms as she was buried in his. She dropped her head to his chest, arms quickly detracting to a safe space on either side of her face. “I...I'm s – sorry...Charles...” She panted, trying to take deep shaky breaths. She wanted to walk away, but didn't feel in control of her legs just yet.

And she honestly didn't want to leave his arms either.

He spent the next few breaths picking his mind up and trying to place the pieces where they had been before he heard that quiet bang in her room. His chin rested on her head, idly staring out the window for something different to present to his attention. He was too muddled to give her proper words, shifting his mouth to her hair and using the smell of her shampoo to focus with. He needed to shove that buzzing feeling in his veins away lest he scare her and unnerve his co-workers at how inappropriate he looked right now.

She mentally ordered herself to leave his arms and it took a few times before she slowly pulled from his embrace. She was sad for it and felt colder with so much taken away. She looked to the floor, half turned from him. She was as annoyed at being turned off yet again as much as she was irate at giving in to her behavior. “I'm...sorry. I d – didn't...mean to. Well...I m – mean...I did, but...I know y – you have rules about this s – stuff at the office.” Her arms crossed self-consciously. She kicked herself for throwing him around when he had stipulated against this.

“ _If_ _one_ _is_ _going_ _to_ _dip_ _their_ _pen_ _into_ _the_ _company_ _ink,_ _then_ _they_ _shouldn't_ _do_ _so_ _while_ _on_ _the_ _company_ _dime._ _”_

She wanted him to continue that day too in her office when he stopped. She gave in again, but was thankfully stopped by her phone. She felt bad for instigating it, wanting it, and yet wishing she could continue.

His hand came out and gently directed her face back to his.

He kissed her forehead before he let himself think too much about what he was doing. He didn't want her to regret what she attempted because he wasn't sorry for continuing it. “There is nothing to be sorry for Bunty. You shouldn't apologize for something like that. Is this what's been bothering you?”

“Y...yes...” She mumbled, skin happy at his touch. She felt like pouting at stopping again, at being so worked up and forced to quit. “I'm...I tried to k – keep you away...so I didn't lose c – control of myself. This is the second t – time I've lost myself in front of you too.”

His lips twitched at how adorable it all sounded. She had tried very hard for his sake. Had it been any later in the day he was available, he would've suggested a rendezvous to her place or his for some lessons if time permitted. “While I usually don't mind such a mental tussle, I can see why you tried to step away from me while in your office. My apologizes for jumbling you so much.”

She nearly scurried from his hold and to her desk. She grabbed the phone and turned the lock screen on, finding a text from Monica that she had been waiting for. Her eyes widened and she looked his way, not wanting him near with what she was hoping to ask Monica about. “It's...I'll be f – fine Charles.” She cleared her throat, sitting down and twiddling her hands in her lap, making sure to keep a safe distance from her torso. “B – but...it may b – be better if you...head back to your office.” She looked away, chagrined that she wanted, needed him to leave her right now. It was for the best as much as she didn't want him to go.

He could tell she was still emotionally upturned by it all and was asking for distance to cool off. Job and pleasure warred with him more than he thought they would before he forced his legs to take those steps toward her door. She seemed to want to kiss him, but didn't want to do so at the office like he had previously mentioned. Perhaps they needed to have a discussion over this very soon. “As you wish Miss Young. If you need anything work-related from me, I'll be in my office. I'll check back later with you before you head out for the day.”

She waited until her door clicked closed and she could hear his as well before her head fell into her hands.

She didn't know it would be this perilous to want someone! She didn't even know how or for what that she wanted him! Tears lined her eyes and one squeezed out, not to be denied. Just like she was doing to herself and forced him to.

She wanted to march right in there and beg for his forgiveness, even though he said there was nothing to be sorry about. He even gave condolences on throwing her emotions around! He called her kind, but he was far better than she was. He had control of himself so much more than she did and she didn't know how he did it every day. If he was attracted to her as he let on when he kissed her just now, how did he manage all of this? Did it plague him at night like it did her? Did his mind wander, his hands aching to touch her as she mimicked for him?

She sat up and stared at the dark screen, having gone to sleep long ago. She had no urge to finish up her work, but she couldn't bring herself to leave until she did. She really wished she was at the end of it all for today so she could head home and bury her head in her pillows.

She really wished she could ask to bury her face in his chest again instead though...

Her head thunked on the desk. 'Oh my god! What is wrong with me?!'

She jerked to standing and remembered Monica had responded. Yes...Monica. Please let her redirect things as they needed to be! If she could somehow bundle this in a box and stuff it away on the back burner for now, maybe she could get her job done fast enough to escape Charles before she climbed on his lap in his office chair.

Her face flamed and her hands slapped her cheeks.

With a scowl, she unlocked her phone and the text history.

 _What's_ _up_ _kiddo?_ _Your_ _message_ _was_ _kind_ _of_ _obscure._ _Do_ _you_ _need_ _help?_

 _I'm_ _sorry!_ _It's_ _been_ _a_ _long_ _night_ _last_ _night_ _and_ _I_ _really_ _could_ _use_ _your_ _help_ _on_ _something_ _womanly._

_Womanly?_

_Sexual._

_Oh._ _Well_ _I'll_ _try_ _to_ _help_ _if_ _I_ _can._

 _Is_ _it_ _okay_ _if_ _we_ _order_ _a_ _pizza_ _or_ _something_ _at_ _my_ _place_ _or_ _your_ _place?_ _I'm_ _really_ _not_ _comfortable_ _talking_ _about_ _this_ _in_ _public._ _Last_ _night_ _was_ _scary_ _enough._

 _I_ _finish_ _up_ _in_ _an_ _hour_ _and_ _then_ _I'm_ _done_ _for_ _the_ _day._ _I_ _can_ _be_ _at_ _your_ _place._ _When_ _do_ _you_ _get_ _done_ _from_ _work?_

 _If_ _I_ _can_ _focus_ _well_ _enough,_ _I_ _should_ _be_ _able_ _to_ _get_ _out_ _of_ _here_ _before_ _five._ _So_ _if_ _you_ _want_ _to_ _meet_ _at_ _my_ _place_ _by_ _six,_ _I_ _should_ _be_ _able_ _to_ _get_ _there_ _in_ _time._

IF she could focus. That was easier said than done and so many times she feared that knock on her door. It had her on the edge of her seat and too many times in the midst of typing an email or in a document, she would pause, thinking she heard him outside and her hands hovered over the keyboard to listen. It was maddening and she had half a mind to take her work laptop home so she could get some peace and quiet!

She didn't know how she did it, but she closed down the last file and harshly closed the screen, putting her head on top of the surface. It felt like running a marathon without her meds. Her head hurt, her heart wouldn't stop pounding as she thought he would walk through that door any second, and her veins spiked in anticipation half the time. She heaved a sigh, feeling herself calm a little now that the day was done. This hell had a closure and she was about ready to crawl out of the pit she fell, or dove, into.

The knock on the door elicited a scream from her.

“Miss Young?” He popped open the door, poking his head in at seeing her gripping the armrests, glasses askew on her nose and looking panicked. A brow went up, although she looked too comical to keep the smile off his face. “Am I still troubling you Miss Young?”

“Yes!” She bit out, righting herself in the chair and quickly standing when she realized she said that with more unrequited venom than she wanted. She heaved a sigh, mentally berated herself for making things worse and went to pack her bag. It was the end of the day and she knew what he was coming in for. It was almost a habit now that he stop and offer her a ride and she didn't have the energy to bat away his insistences.

His lips pressed together to quell the smile at how open she was. It was so refreshing and he would've teased her if earlier today hadn't happened. He had a feeling she would be even more cross and avoid him if he picked on her right now.

It was so hard not to!

He remained in his post at the doorway while she shouldered the bag and rounded the desk, not looking at him. “At the possibility of making you more perturbed than you are now, would you like a hug?”

She stared at him, brows furrowing up in regret for having snapped at him. She didn't think she had ever done so and they really didn't argue when she thought about it. She looked to his suit and the jacket she had gripped earlier. She didn't feel anything other than tired, annoyed, and frustrated by the whole thing. She didn't want to turn away from an embrace from him, sensual or not.

She stepped into his outspread arms, heaving a sigh and wrapping hers around his waist as his went around her torso.

“I don't wish to make you more uncomfortable Samara, but I do believe we must go over whatever it is that you're feeling right now. As it involves me, I must have done something lately to instigate this in you. If there is anything you need from me, I will do what I can to help you out. Please let me know when you wish to discuss this. I know it's difficult for you and I won't push you to this instant.”

She sighed and looked to him, feeling tired. “Thanks Charles. I just...I'm not too sure just w – what is going on.” Her face heated as she looked to his tie. “W – well...I think I d – do...but, I've got m – more questions than answers. I was going to talk to Monica about this. I hope you understand. I know you h – have experience in life and I asked th – that of you...but I feel more at ease asking M – Monica about this.” She looked at him, wincing a little. “I'm sorry. That sounds wrong. I don't m – mean it quite like that...”

A hand came up and patted her head. “I understand Samara. There is a certain camaraderie with one who is the same gender and you are seeking that right now. I still wish you would talk with me as well, but perhaps your friend will be able to help you straighten your thoughts first so you can be more coherent.”

She smiled warmly at him, eyes tearing at his thoughtfulness. Her arms tightened briefly, trying to convey how appreciative she was in this moment. He tossed the ball back in her court and was waiting yet again, like she often made him. It made her find the strength he helped her create and she latched onto it in order to get home and figure this out.

“You always seem to have the right words for everything!” She mumbled. “Once I get this figured o – out, I promise I'll...talk to you about it.” Her face heated and she looked to his tie again, shoulders hunching as best they could. “Even if it's...r – really...embarrassing.”

“I'll be waiting for your response. Until then, may I offer you a ride back to your apartment to unwind?”

She nodded and stepped from his arms much easier than she had earlier. She adjusted the bag on her shoulder and moved when he stepped aside to let her go first. She headed to his car in silence, the storms of last night up until now having been swept away with his words, his patience, his kindness, and that hug. She didn't think she needed that more than ever up until that moment and she was thankful yet again that he was there. He might have started some things, but he was also there to finish them and make them obsolete. The pieces chipped off her back and she felt calmer, looser, not quite so tight in the neck.

She didn't bother to speak much in the car on the way back and he didn't press her to. Her demeanor seemed more uplifted than earlier and he was glad to have helped, even if he seemed part of her troubles. She was bothered by his physical presence enough to instigate that kiss and while he gladly accepted it, he was curious as to what was going on in her head at the time. She was fighting being near him and seemed to give in if the gruff actions could be telltale signs. She had yet to do so and he wondered what befell her in just one day.

He was intrigued in the discussion they were going to have and he thought it best to give her the space she needed until she was ready to sit down with him either at her place or his. If his guesses were correct, public would not be a good location to talk about such things.

“Thanks for the ride Charles. And...everything. I appreciate it.”

“It's no trouble Samara. I will see you tomorrow at work.”

She watched him leave again, feeling a little sad that he was out of sight and away from her. Even though she had his phone number and could text or call him whenever she wanted. Even though they worked together every day. Even though they were supposed to have a serious conversation and future dinner date sometime soon.

She shook her head and turned for the stairs, telling herself to stop being silly and get ready for Monica. She didn't know just how she was going to start explaining all of this without her face melting like lava, but she felt comfortable with Monica and hadn't been judged yet. It gave her confidence to reach out, feeling that she wouldn't be rebuked.

Bowser trotted up to her and she gave him a hug after she closed the door. “I'm so sorry for last night Bowser! I feel better now that you're in my arms. You're such a good boy, yes you are.”

Bowser licked her a few times before she put him down and went to get his leash. She dropped her purse on the kitchen counter before taking him out to do business real quick. She lamented not taking her phone in order to figure out what kind of pizza to get, but didn't ask before she put the phone away for work. She hurried back to check the time, finding she had about ten minutes before Monica said she might arrive and went to the laptop. The video was still up, and she frowned at the cursed website which had inadvertently caused her more grief than she thought possible. She didn't know if showing it as exhibit A was a good idea, but it couldn't hurt if it came up and minimized the screen.

There was a knock on the door and she turned with a smile. She hurried over and threw it open, finding Monica in an outfit that fit her everywhere right, hair loose and her makeup perfect. “Thanks for meeting me Monica.” She greeted, stepping out of the way.

“I'll admit, it was kind of odd, but I'll do what I can Sam.” Monica looked down behind thick glasses, seeing circles and her brows went up. “Didn't go with any makeup to hide those puffy eyes, huh?”

Samara's hands went to her cheeks, pushing her glasses up a little. She had forgotten about the circles and tiredness. Now that she was home and the day was done, she almost felt like it was another messed up dream plaguing her. “I...I was just too exhausted to care today.” She admitted, looking away. “Even though I just bought all of that from you so soon.”

Monica's head tilted, brow going up in confusion. “Whatever happened to you after you headed home last night? Did it have something to do with me telling you to talk over the whole Eva thing to Charles?”

Samara's mouth scrunched up, not wanting to rehash that anymore. “Maybe a little in the beginning. But, I realized that I don't even know what I want from Charles.” Her brow furrowed as she tried best to recall all of the chaos in her head last night. “I asked him for lessons and he was happy to help, but he figured it was more about getting me used to the treatment.” Her face flamed, fingers twirling around each other. “I...k – kind of...got a little c – carried away I think...”

“Well considering how red your face just got, it must be a doozy. How about we order that pizza and you go into it more while we wait for it?”

Samara nodded, feeling better at how casually Monica brushed such a big issue aside for now and started hashing out what to get for pizza. She put the order in and turned to the woman on the couch, finding her scratching Bowser behind his ears. She smiled and joined them, arms raising as Bowser trotted over and plopped in her lap.

“So...why don't you start from after you got back to your apartment?” Monica threw an arm over the couch, using her hand to prop her head up as blue eyes met brown.

Samara heaved a sigh, thumb making its way to her teeth as she thought back to when she got home. She tried to relay as best she could the turmoil of Eva and how it led her to question everything she felt for him. She explained how anything that Charles had done with Eva didn't matter because he never gave on that he was thinking of Eva during their time together. She wasn't as worried about that so much as the growing physical attraction she had for him which had her imagining quite a few things about him last night.

Her face went red, mortified eyes looking to her hands. She fumbled with words on a few things she did to herself, thinking of him instead of herself doing the work and pointed to her laptop across the way.

“My friends gave me a few sites for...research and th – that's what you heard that one day. I swear that's what happened. Last night...I pulled it back up again. I thought to myself what I even wanted him to do and knew the sites had info. There's so much to look at! I got so c – carried away by what I felt...but it gave me an asthma attack.” Her shoulders slumped. “I was so frustrated that I took it out on Charles today and then tried to get him away from me. I feel so bad about doing that, even if it was really nice.” Sad eyes met Monica's even ones. “I don't know how to fix this! What do I even want? All I know is that I want Ch – Charles...but how? What do I want him to do to me? When I looked it up, I made it worse and then I didn't fall asleep until after I texted you. I can't just look this stuff up like I'm finding the temperature outside.”

Monica waited for the pause after the sigh, figuring it was okay to say something without interrupting. “So...basically you're horny and don't know how to have an orgasm, but when you tried you had an asthma attack that kept you from finishing?”

Samara flinched back at the horrible reiterating, even if that was what happened. “Y – yea...pretty much. How am I supposed to beat this?!” Hands covered her eyes. “Am I supposed to walk up to Charles and sit in his lap? It feels like I want to feel so much, but I can't! It's so aggravating!”

Monica's lips twitched. “Yea. I know what you mean. You've got a boy toy ready to help you, but your body isn't quite used to this stuff yet. That does take the fun out of everything.” A finger tapped her cheek in thought. “You said Charles was going to help you with breathing exercises, right? Is that supposed to help your asthma?”

“Charles seems to think the attacks are more anxiety related than anything. I used to get them a lot when I thought about things I was weak to, but ever since Charles made me his assistant, he's been helping me become so much more confident and I do feel so much better. My asthma doesn't seem quite so bad...at least until now anyway.”

Monica gave a thoughtful hum, idly looking to the laptop. There was a knock on the door and Samara jumped up. “Why don't you get that while I look at the website you were on last night. Maybe I can find something for you.”

Samara unlocked the laptop and let Monica take the chair as she opened the door. Pizza immediately wafted to her nose and she found she was hungrier after such a rollercoaster of a day. She paid the delivery person and put the boxes on the counter, watching Monica scroll through the index and click on a few things. She held back, unsure on what to do and envious that Monica could watch some of the videos without going red in the face or looking physically agitated.

Monica left the last link she pulled up on open and ready to be used before standing. “Man, that smells good. I'm starving.”

Samara hopped to and grabbed plates from the cupboards, hoping she would be able to get some sleep tonight so she could think tomorrow. She passed one to Monica and the two dug in for a few moments, the silent not oppressive or unbearable.

“I think I have a plan for you.” Monica mumbled around a bite. She swallowed the crust and leaned over the dining counter. “Do you know what masturbation is?”

A brow went up. “Um...I think I s – saw it on the website, but I didn't click on it.”

“Basically, it's touching yourself to please yourself. Like what another person would do, but with your own hands.” Monica's thumb jerked behind her to the desk. “I'll show you the link I pulled up and have you click on some videos later at your own privacy...just in case you feel like being grabby hands.”

Samara's face flamed and she inhaled the pizza, coughing it back up and eventually going for her inhaler on the kitchen counter. She met Monica's gaze incredulously as she tried to steady her breathing. “D – do you...have to put it like that?” She mumbled, putting the inhaler back.

Monica snorted. “You need some desensitization kiddo. I think that's your problem. You're so new to this that everything freaks you out. You need some video therapy and those will help show you how a woman can please herself. That's kind of beyond me because we're all different and we all have our own buttons that make us go off. I'll let you figure out what those are. Once you have that down, you can let Charles smash them for you.”

Samara's face exploded as Monica grinned. This was why she had the woman come over, but Monica was still so blunt that it was hard to take easily! She thanked the woman and asked if they could change the topic as she figured she had about everything she could do with Monica concerning the big issue.

The next step was there, she just needed to give Monica enough time to eat and once she was gone, there was more research to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sam. So frustrated with no release. fufufufu XD


	15. a next step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She took a deep breath, telling herself she had no right to be mortified any longer after what they just did together. Her face exited the confines and looked to the bed frame. “I said, I called you because I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted you with me and I wanted you to touch me. Anywhere. I couldn't hold back anymore.”

The leftover slices were in the fridge and the empty pizza box had been disposed of. Bowser had been out to pee for the night and she gave him an extra treat for putting up with her oddities over the last few days. He was happily chewing away on the couch as she sat in the office chair, the screen glare bouncing off her glasses.

Pictures of mostly naked women in all sorts of random, erotic poses and facial expressions met her perturbed gaze. She felt odd watching another woman touch herself, but remembered Angela and Vikki's words about watching porn anyway.

“ _Women_ _are_ _sexual_ _creatures_ _too_ _Sam._ _There_ _is_ _no_ _reason_ _women_ _can't_ _enjoy_ _erotica_ _just_ _as_ _much_ _as_ _men_ _can._ _”_

She harshly swallowed, not knowing just what she should start with first. They were all too risque, but she finally found one that looked less out of many and clicked on the link. She was almost sad her laptop was so powerful and the video booted right up.

It was innocent enough. The woman was just laying in bed, occasionally looking to the camera. It kept panning to different parts of the body soon after the white sun dress was removed to reveal matching underwear. Brown eyes focused on the hands that squished the woman's breasts, but there seemed to be more stuff for the camera and the viewer than actual pleasure. Or was this supposed to be for the person the woman was looking at? She didn't think she'd have the guts to arch her back like that in front of Charles and the notion felt odd...but Monica's words of her not being used to anything ran through her head.

She was almost halfway through the video when things got to what she needed to be paying attention to. Wandering hands, circling fingers, soft rubbing, and squeezing. She felt that thrum low in her legs, but it was much less than anything she'd watched. She looked to her hands disbelievingly that she could insert them inside that orifice like the woman was doing. It looked so unsanitary!

The sudden close up had her jerking back in her seat. She stared with wide eyes at the unnecessarily good view of the woman's genitalia, but unable to look away in morbid fascination. The view thankfully swapped again and she breathed a sigh of relief, shutting the video down before it could end. She heaved a sigh, slightly affected from the sensuality of it all, not wanting such a start to get her down. She was here to learn darn it and she shouldn't give up! 'Desensitize...'

She watched a few more videos, the same things happening. There didn't look to be anything special to the act and she didn't know if she even learned anything she hadn't unconsciously started last night. She closed the laptop with a sigh, heading to bed in a less than assured mood that things had been better after more watching.

She hugged the pillow to her, finding it way too early to be in bed. It was slowly ticking past the seven-thirty hour and the sun was still setting. She was tired from lack of sleep last night, but didn't want to acquiesce. She was on low burn from the last few videos and while it wasn't the heterosexual pairings she had watched before, it was sultry enough to poke the fires. She had tried to study more, but didn't feel like it had much merit right now.

She rolled to her back with a thoughtful sigh, dissecting all of the videos as she stared at the ceiling. That stuff looked pretty basic and she had scrubbed herself in the shower the same way; how was that supposed to help her find out what she liked? Teeth bit her lip, attention on her palms, as she figured there was no better way to figure it out than actually do it.

“ _You_ _need_ _some_ _desensitization_ _kiddo._ _I_ _think_ _that's_ _your_ _problem._ _You're_ _so_ _new_ _to_ _this_ _that_ _everything_ _freaks_ _you_ _out._ _”_

Both hands snuck out from the covers and she stared at them. Her heart jumped a bit at the thought of doing something right now, but she had no where to be and nothing else to do for the rest of the evening. Even if she could be working on Evermake, she didn't want to. She really wanted to familiarize herself with this. She was supposed to have a talk with Charles about all this soon and she needed to tell him something.

At the thought of his name, his face floated into her head. The kiss earlier, his tight hold around her started the telltale shake and her breathing increased a tad.

He had such power over her. Did he even know that? Because of him, she was at the cross roads and looking down so many possibilities ahead from the road she had wandered through. It forked from her interest in him, splitting again when she found his interest in her. She had no idea just how she was going to honestly dissect this with him when she couldn't even get it straight in her own head.

Now was as good a time as any. It was the only logical next step. She had discussed the issues with others, taken notes, and studied up on it. Now was time to apply it all if she had the guts.

She harshly swallowed and slowly unbuttoned the first few to her pajamas. The fire flamed from a sudden burst as both hands gingerly rested over her breasts. The videos came back and she tried to mimic them, quickly adjusting to her needs and what felt good. Her train of thought quickly split as she swore she almost smelled his cologne. His voice from the merged man echoed in her ears.

“ _Do_ _you_ _still_ _want_ _me_ _to_ _come_ _inside_ _Samara?_ _”_

She inhaled a shaky breath, fingers pinching. Teeth bit her lip and she tried to think of all the things she might like, but her brain was fogging over and it was hard to think. Feel took top priority and it had her removing the rest of the buttons to slide the fabric away from her stomach. It tickled just enough to draw a smile until her hands took up the slack.

“ _Miss_ _Young..._ _”_

She exhaled a shaky breath, inching lower to her navel.

“ _I_ _would_ _rather_ _you_ _not_ _be_ _a_ _nervous_ _wreck_ _for_ _any_ _of_ _it_ _though._ _It_ _reduces_ _the_ _pleasure_ _level_ _if_ _you_ _can't_ _enjoy_ _this_ _as_ _you_ _ought_ _to._ _”_

Her tongue came out over her lower lip. They tingled as she imagined his mouth on hers, insistent and knowledgeable. Her tongue felt like it needed to do something with as empty as that space felt and it slowly rolled over her lips, feeling almost every taste bud in its wake. Her head pushed into the pillow a little more, the heat in her veins setting her skin to sensitive as her fingers and callouses hit her hip bones.

Were his hands roughed in spots like hers were from fencing? She wanted to find out...needed to know so badly all of a sudden. She had seen his chest, had been near him. She called those images forth, using his voice and trying to recreate what he would ask of her. He didn't know and she would need to teach him so he could further help her. Questions were good so long as they were whispered in her ear.

“ _And what would you like me to do instead?”_

“T...touch me...Charles...” She breathed, taking the leap into the space between her legs.

Her hips bucked off the bed before she even got deeper.

Her head tilted to one side, eyes closed and imagination running like a freight train. Her mouth was a desert that she panted dry in attempt to suck in air. Her pajama pants weren't helping the joints in her wrists and they strained a little before she shucked them off in frustration. She quickly set the pillow higher on the headboard for a better view and watched her fingers, legs widening a little to accommodate.

She could've drawn blood with her teeth on her abused lip when she found the jackpot. It must have been the 'button' Monica was talking about and she was forced to stop from the sheer magnitude that assaulted her. She watched her chest heave, fingers taking bolder steps to imitate the movements she had seen earlier. Sensations quickly directed her to just what felt the best and she moved that spot again and again.

“ _Breathe in Bunty. Your heart is racing.”_

“Ch – Charles...” She breathed, back arching a little into the headboard.

Her legs were shaking, arms straining to do their job faster. Her heart was galloping away as she moved, one hand traveling north to pinch a breast again. It was delicious and she wanted more. Something felt like a poor attempt, although it was heaven in and of itself. She felt empty between her thighs and Charles ran through her head. Specifically his hands.

The earlier video she had scoffed at, wondering if she could do as the woman did to herself flashed to that scene and she copied it without hesitation.

She cried out, not able to think of anything past her own skin and yet racing across town to a luscious apartment full of windows and tall ceilings. To a bed large enough to hold two people.

“ _Can you describe your emotions right now?”_

“M...more...” She nearly begged. “I...n – need...you...”

Her lungs could've seized when she spoke and forced her to stop just as she was past the middle of it.

She sat up for her inhaler, wanting to scream and cry at the same time. She took a few inhales, gripping it with shaking hands, body running high. Her jaw clenched as tears squeezed out. Everything was already starting to cool down just a bit after having been taken away, but she was still high from the experience. It was like stretching a rubber-band too far.

She smacked the inhaler on the nightstand...right next to her cell phone.

She stared at it, itching to pick it up. She couldn't think straight right now, just like when she had that drink. But she was completely sober and yet still massively turned around. She tried to even out her breathing as she watched her arm float out on its own accord.

Her thumb deftly unlocked the phone and stared at her call logs.

“ _What are you feeling Samara?”_

Her thumb hit the phone icon as she rested on a shaking arm, squeezing her thighs and whimpering.

It rang a few times before going to voicemail. She quickly closed the call, flopping on her bed and letting it fall out of her hand by a few inches.

An arm went over her forehead as she covered her eyes in the darkening room and took stock of everything she felt and where. Her legs and arms still trembled, heart thundering along. The recessive tide was slow and she didn't want it to go away. She wanted more, had hoped somehow, someway, that he could assist. He had knowledge and probably knew exactly what she was feeling. He had slept with others, had pleased them along with himself, and he was already in her head. Maybe in her ear would finish the job?

She looked to the screen, finding the clock reading past eight. He could be doing anything else. She shouldn't get him involved with such a chaotic event. It was just the lust making her do this.

She didn't want this to quit. Perhaps now that she had some medicine, her lungs could hold out and she could try again. Yes...keep going. She wanted to find out what was at the end of all this. If it was anything like what she was currently going through, it had to be worth the trouble.

She looked down, cold from the torso down with only open pajama cotton to cover her arms. She stared at her breasts, quickly heating back up with full intent to finish. Her hands floated up again, pinching and massaging. Her inner thighs became jealous and a hand brushed down her stomach to pay them some attention too. She was catapulted back to where she was yanked from, the previous movements ingrained in her brain.

Her phone rang.

She yelped, confused and stolen from bliss again as she stumbled to sit up and look at her phone. Dark eyes pinned it with the force of her emotions as it added to the mix when Charles's name was on the incoming call.

She was stone for a moment, wanting to pick it up and yet knowing she was merely being stupid. What was she even intending by involving him with this? This was supposed to be for her. It was best he not find out about this kind of stuff until she was ready to tell him. Even if she was asking for this from him later, she didn't know if she was really ready for his involvement yet.

Her hand clicked the green icon and connected the call.

Knowing he was now sharing space with her even a little, set her heart bouncing all over her room. It made her dizzy and she panted for air. The hand resting near her phone clicked the speaker option as a safe bet because she didn't think she could hold the phone since she couldn't even manage herself on her arms.

Miss Young? Is everything alright?”

She exhaled a shaky breath. She couldn't answer him. She called him for assistance and yet didn't know just what to say. She was running on base emotion right now and needed him but not in any definite way that she could properly articulate.

“Miss Young? Are you there?”

Her mouth slowly opened, mind blank and eyes riveted on the phone. “Ch...Charles...” She breathed.

“Samara? Are you okay? You sound odd.”

She pulled herself to the phone as if he were in the room with her. Her breasts dragged across the bed, thighs squeezing as she rotated. She exhaled a shaky breath, fists tight. “Charles...h...help me. I...”

“Do you need an ambulance Samara? I can call for you right now.”

“You... I...need you...Charles.” Her face rested on the mattress, panting at his voice and the accent that was caressing her ears despite the mounting concern in her words. “Please. Help me...I'm... I touched myself...but...I can't. It was...too much. No... It's n – not enough.” A hand propped her head up, feeling it ache. “Help me. Somehow. I just...need you...”

Had he thought to pick up the phone when he heard it buzz during his stop at a red light, he probably would've hit someone with his car at those words. He had the sense to wait until he was back at his apartment and his fencing bag stowed on the kitchen counter for now before returning the missed call.

Hearing those breathy, sensual, hesitant words pierced his chest and his legs actually shook a little. He sat down in the chair in the living room, not able to keep himself standing. The phone rattled against his head as his hands shook. He harshly swallowed as he took in her words and what she wanted him to do.

She had been touching herself and for whatever reason called him. He responded thinking the conversation would include anything but that, but he never considered this to ever happen. He couldn't find his fingers to press the disconnect option on the phone, eyes boring holes into the single chair across the way. A feeling that he had experienced before grabbed him and shook him to the core. He couldn't find the control to tell her no, to leave before he fell into an abyss so tantalizing he was willing to let the darkness swallow him.

His thumb rose and met his teeth, biting in a way he had seen her do before. He didn't hold back with pressure, but felt no pain as his veins buzzed and his slacks became uncomfortable. She made him feel like he was next to her, even though his emotions sprinted there faster than his ears.

“Are you in bed right now?” He quietly asked, letting the poor digit take a break.

“Yes...”

“Are you laying on your back or your front?”

His voice was smooth, like he was pouring honey in her ear. She could almost feel the hot breath brush her ear. Her eyes peeked open, remembering her spoke. “My stomach.”

“Lay on your back for me.”

She felt a twitch in her thighs and easily did as commanded. The phone rested on the other side of the bed as she stared at the street lights playing with the ceiling. “Done.”

“What are you wearing right now?”

Her tongue darted out over her lips. That tone was dangerous and it already had her heart going fast again. Her skin felt the ghost of his hands from where hers had already been. She heaved a breath at the thought. “J – just...my pajama top.”

“Is it open?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Take your hands and cover your breasts.”

She had already done that, but the fact that he was telling her to do so again had her indecisive and yet excited all over again. Shaking digits flexed wide as she pushed them together, exhaling a shaky breath when she did so.

“Does that feel good?”

“Y...yes...” She panted, gulping air. Her eyes closed as she attuned to only his voice and her actions through his words. Her room melted away and the blankets became non-existent under her. The cold dissipated as she started burning up.

“I want you to describe the things as I tell you to do them as I'm unable to see what you do Samara. You can manage that, right?”

“Yes...Charles...”

That tone of voice was going to kill him. It raced through his ear and straight to his groin and he took a deep breath against it.

His creativity jumped out behind closed eyes, trying to picture her nude in front of him and what he would do to her first. He desperately wished he could be there now, but he would be pulled over by the police for speeding before that happened. He would have to content himself at being so close and yet so far. At having free reign to a gorgeous woman who openly wanted him to please her until she came as best he could do over the phone.

His blood nearly boiled over and he winced, uncrossing his legs.

“Pinch your nipples. Tell me what you feel when you do.”

She did as commanded, a moan escaping that she couldn't keep very quiet. “Good...” She tried to get out. Her fingers rotated. “M – my fingers...are...rotating...slowly. I l – like...it.”

He listened to her breathing going out of control. It was enough of a bucket of cold water over his head to remind himself she wasn't as healthy as she appeared in order to do this. “If you ever need your inhaler Samara, take your medicine immediately. Do you understand?”

“Okay. I already did once.”

“Good. I'll guide you, but don't be dismayed if you need to use it. Think nothing of it as a quick intermission before returning to how I will help you please yourself.”

The air left her in a hurry at those final words. She didn't have an answer for that and thus left it alone. Her eyes peeked open at the night, seeing only blue instead. “Charles...I want t – to...touch myself...down there. M – my hands...are already at...my stomach.”

He exhaled a trembling breath. “Finish the job Samara. Don't deny yourself the things you want. Have you already done so earlier?”

“Yes...” Her legs widened again on reflex as she skipped past hair. “I f – found a few...buttons...as M – Monica called them.” Her index lowered and she cried out. “I th – thought...that you...could p – push them for me...sometime.”

His heart thundered in his chest. He wanted to pace the room in the useless feeling that was overpowering him. In the sheer frustrated desire enveloping him so fully that he wished he could teleport there and be with her damned the consequences and whatever happened tomorrow at the office. His brain snapped and broke into a million pieces, hand resting on dangerously on a thigh. His arm twitched a few times to move closer, but he held himself in check. This was for her, not him.

“Touch yourself Samara. I want to hear you cry out when you do.”

She did as ordered and tried to keep herself quiet. It was difficult and teeth bit her lip as she whimpered past it.

“What are you feeling Samara?”

“It's...amazing. So...p – powerful. M...my heart...is beating so fast.”

His teeth bit down on his thumb, using the pain to try and keep his wits about him. He could almost feel it as he listened to her struggle to breathe. “Use a circle pattern with one hand and take your fingers on the other hand...and insert them.”

She almost bit out that she wanted his hand for that job, but did as told. Her head whipped to one side in reflex, other hand picking up speed.

“How does that feel?”

“It's...I just...can't... It's so s – strong... I w – want to go...faster.”

“Then do so Bunty.”

She complied, squirming and shaking. The need that she felt earlier captured her arms and drove them on. She panted, unable to think, couldn't speak. She forgot everything except for what she felt, head digging into the pillow at the headboard. Her eyes closed as she envisioned his hands.

He listened, wishing he could record this to play it back in sweet torture later. But, he would be able to remember this afterward. Every nerve cell had her moans stamped on them for him to listen to whenever he wished. Piercing blue eyes turned stormy as they stared out dark windows. His legs shifted, getting a wince as his muscles jerked in his seat.

“Talk to me Samara.”

“Ch – Charles...it's...god...it's amazing! More...I want more! Touch me...I want your hands on me! I want your mouth to kiss...anywhere you want.”

She was practically begging. He wished he was there to do as she asked, but from the sounds of things she wasn't going to last much longer. She just needed that final push over the edge.

“What else can I do to help you Bunty?”

“T – talk...to me. It's s – so...nice. I like it. I like...hearing your voice tell m – me...what to do.”

The invitation stole the rest of his patience and his brain disintegrated.

“I want to bury myself in you Samara. I want to feel how tight you are and make you scream. I want to suck on your breasts until you can't take it anymore. I want to move in you until you cry out my name. Will you do that for me? I want to hear my name from your lips when your orgasm hits.”

“Yes.” So close, almost there! “M – more...Charles. Something...is...almost...I c – can't...”

“I want to grab your hips with my hands and drive against you right now. I want to suck on where your fingers are right now and please you. I want to taste you and let you wrap your legs around my head. I want to watch you convulse on the bed, begging me to stop and refusing until you're too spent to resist anymore.”

She imagined it all. Her eyes squeezed shut, arm burning as it moved. Something seemed to build, pushing her to the edge. “Ch – Charles...I th – think...I -”

It hit her like a sledgehammer and her back arched until she feared it broke.

His hand gripped the phone and could've broke it much the same as his last one. This was insanity and he listened to her cries, closing his eyes to imagine it all. “Samara. Talk to me.”

“Charles! Yes! This...is...! I can't...fantastic! You...this...feels so good! Charles! I d – don't...want to stop!”

“Then only stop when I tell you to Samara.”

She kept going, body thrashing, muscles spasming in between her fingers. She rode everything out, feeling like it was too much and she was drowning in the crest of waves. “Ch – Charles! It's...t – too much! I...can't...anymore...!”

“Don't stop Samara.”

Her head whipped on either side of the pillow, back aching. “Pl...ease Ch – Charles! I can't t – take it anymore! Please l – let me...stop!”

He suddenly realized he liked to listen to her beg and it was going to be a sudden thing he wanted to do more of. But, he was a merciful man and had done enough for today. “You may stop Samara. Catch your breath.”

She gasped, hands letting go as if cut from marionette strings. Her arms flopped onto the bed, wide eyes staring through the ceiling. She stole air as much as she could, feeling the attack come on and it mingle with her orgasm. She coughed, inhales turning to wheezes.

“Samara. Locate your inhaler and take your medicine immediately.”

Somehow her body listened to his words, but it was so laborious to make it work. She felt like she just ran a marathon and her arms refused to hold her upright. She was shaking too much to be of any use and couldn't stand. “Night...stand...” She wheezed, trying to focus on it. “N...ight...s – stand...”

It took three clumsy tries before she could grab it and manage to get it past her lips.

Hearing her inhale the medicine took the brunt of his own pleasure and threw it out the patio door. His ardor froze over as he listened to her calm down, thankful she was aware enough to keep one next to her for easy reach. He listened to her breathing slow, hear her flop on the bed and was still silent. He let her ride down the aftermath for perilous heartbeats on his sanity, worry doing quite the job on his erection.

“How are you faring Samara?”

Her eyes trudged up to peek open, unable to focus. She felt like she had left her body or floated over the bed somehow. Every nerve ending was on fire and yet numb from overload. Her jaw and fingers were vibrating from it all. She had never felt this lively in her entire life and somehow more empowered than she had ever been.

“Alive...” She murmured, heart slowing. A smile formed on its own as her brain started booting back up. “Thank you Charles. I...didn't mean to involve you...kind of...I did...but, thank you.”

Her shy tone heated his face and his heart simultaneously. It jogged him enough to be able to stand for the kitchen and a desperately needed glass of water. The sense of caring struck a match and set it to a pile of kindling that made him long to take her in his arms this instant and cradle her against his chest. “My pleasure Bunty. Truly.”

“It doesn't seem like it was.” She mumbled, slowly rolling to her side to stare at the phone.

He smirked and took a gulp of liquid. “As I also lament not being present to take pleasure in the act with you, I will admit that tonight won't leave me for a while. You've given my ears something to remember for later should I so choose. It will still be my pleasure if I warrant it, but this was about you. This was quite the exercise you set up for yourself.”

She wanted to be abashed at the thought of him touching himself to what she had done while he was on the phone, but the image only excited her. She almost wanted to be so brazen and order him to do so as he had done to her. Almost.

“I'm...glad to...be able to help...” She stumbled, unable to think of anything as eloquent as what he presented.

He put the empty glass in the sink, feeling much better. He leaned against the kitchen counter and stared to the black windows, keeping a hand wrapped under the arm holding his phone and far from anywhere lower for safety sake. “If I may ask, what inspired such an occurrence to finally appear? I understand you were under some distress earlier today and I wanted to ask you about it, but it wasn't the right place for such a heart-to-heart.”

She flattened onto her stomach and wrapped her arms around the pillow, idly staring at the headboard. “A few days ago, I met with Monica instead of having dinner with you. She...told me...things.” Her eyes slid closed.

“Like?”

“How well you knew Eva Lawson.”

There was sorrow in her voice along with what he felt was a pout. He struggled to find words, unable to think of anything to say since he didn't need to reassure her on something that was never an issue between them, but she spoke before he could and saved him.

“I thought about it, about you, and about what I was asking of you. I realized that it didn't matter what happened with her, because I never even knew until then. You never let on, never made her a priority over me.”

“I'm no longer with her anyway Samara. Please don't fret over such a thing.” He found himself saying.

“I...I won't. I was more taken up with what I wanted from you. What was I asking for when I didn't even know anything? I had nothing to draw upon and I was making you do everything for me. I tried to look at...some websites to teach myself...but it made things worse. My asthma got in the way of this and it was so...frustrating.”

His lips twitched. It explained a lot.

“I didn't mean to practically harass you at the office.” A hand covered her face. “I guess I snapped. I couldn't focus. This was with me all day. I wanted you, but I still recalled what you said before you kissed me. You didn't want anything like that to happen in the office. So I asked Monica for advice and she gave me more videos to watch so I could learn about myself. There was nothing to do except try it out and desensitize myself as she said.” Her face buried in the pillow and she mumbled her final words.

“What was that?” He asked, brow going up. For as much as she managed to get out at once, she was suddenly shy and he knew it must have been important. She was returning to herself just a little, but he wouldn't let her just yet.

She took a deep breath, telling herself she had no right to be mortified any longer after what they just did together. Her face exited the confines and looked to the bed frame. “I said, I called you because I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted you with me and I wanted you to touch me. Anywhere. I couldn't hold back anymore.” Brown eyes pierced the phone with her emotions. “You inspired a lot in me Charles. I didn't know that such amazing feelings were possible. I only have you to thank for helping me with all of this. For directing me and yet letting me take the reigns on this. I think...it was a good thing that I called you. Even if it was in the heat of the moment.”

Dear god, were his eyes actually tearing up?! He took a deep breath to calm himself, face hot and feeling outside of his own body. Her words were beams of destruction at the remaining walls surrounding nothing inside. He could feel the weight of all the bricks he spent so much pointless time making evaporating like mist in the sun. His heart was bare and unprotected and it was a scary proposition, but she was nothing but kindness to shelter it in her open arms instead. He felt uncomfortable at such a positive notion, as nice as it sounded.

“I'm glad you called me Samara.” He found himself saying. His voice sounded strange to his own ears. Soft, emotional, warm, quiet. He leaned against the patio door and stared out at the city lights. “I will admit that such an occurrence has never happened to me before, but I'm glad it was with you.”

She gave a silly smile and hugged the pillow tighter through sudden elation. “Really? Never? I find that hard to believe.”

He smirked, a brow going up. “Dare I ask as to why?”

She could detect the faint traces of teasing and decided to hit him over the head for it to stop it in its tracks. “Because you're a gorgeous man who is kind, giving, and you gave it to me. You're perfect. Any woman must want you...but you...you saw something in me worthwhile of your time. You made me want to change Charles...for your sake. I wouldn't be here right now without you at my side, taking my hand and guiding me along. Thank you. I wish I could give you a great big hug to convey myself better, but I can't.”

A hand covered his eyes, the phone falling to his side as he took deep breaths. His jaw clenched as he fought for control, but there was none. The chains were gone and he was prey to his emotions that gave no mercy after he caged them for so long from the sun. He stared to the high ceilings, blinking at the overload that threatened to puff up his heart until it couldn't fit in his chest any longer.

“Charles? Are you there? Are you okay?” She sat up and cradled the phone in her hands, staring at it in her lap.

He quickly cleared his throat and held the phone to his ear, hoping his voice was steady enough to answer her. “Words...will do just fine Samara.” He mumbled. He idly stared across the dining room into the living room.

He didn't know what else to say. Pages were being ripped out of the dictionary in his head and stacked on piles faster than he could read what was on them. He had so many ideas to begin with, but they all sounded like the middle and not a proper beginning. His mouth opened and closed a few times in attempt to continue speaking, but fell flat every time.

“I hope I didn't upset you.” Her brow furrowed in worry at the continued silence. “I just...I wanted to be honest like you wanted me to be. I hope it wasn't too much...”

“No.” He quickly insisted, shaking his head in his befuddlement. “No. I apologize. You have me quite thrown for a loop over here.”

“I'm sorry Charles.”

“Don't apologize Samara. You...” A hand delved into his hair and gripped, heart screaming at him. He gave in before he could think of the ramifications to his words. “You're quite the amazing woman, I'll admit. I was taken aback by you yet again. I'm just not aware of how to act around you sometimes. You are too pure a soul for someone as jaded as myself who doesn't know how to accept heartfelt compliments. You're...inspiring. I wish that others had half of your inner and outer beauty. I should be thanking you ten times more than you thank me for such paltry actions.”

Her heart warmed so much she didn't know it as possible to feel this way. “Charles...” A hand rose to her chest, fingers digging into her skin a little from the strength of it all. “I wish I could be next to you right now and give you a big hug and a kiss.”

His lips tilted. “So do I Bunty. Wholeheartedly so.”

The most comfortable silence she ever felt descended over her. His voice touched her more than she she ever thought it would from the emotion she could hear in it. She ached to be next to him and wrap her arms around him. She wanted to squeeze him until he chuckled from the playfulness of her pitiful strength and do so in return. She wanted to hear him laugh as she tickled him again and make him as high as she had been moments ago. She had been on top of the world and yet was still there.

All because he was here with her from beginning to end.

She didn't think she could carve out a bigger space for him in her head and her heart than now. Nothing was good enough to properly communicate this and she didn't know how to begin to. She wanted to make him feel as she did in this second. Maybe soon they could do that dinner date and end things at his place next time.

The prospect was thrilling.

She spied the phone clock and it was almost nine-thirty. They both had work the next morning and she wanted to shower before going to bed. Her entire posture slumped over the phone as if it would collapse.

Tomorrow beckoned, but she didn't want to say goodbye so she could see him tomorrow.

He was taken aback when she sniffed. “Is everything alright Samara?”

“I...d – don't want t – to...hang up.” She managed. Palms came up to wipe her eyes, the phone resting over crossed legs. “It's l – late...but...I don't want you t – to...go. I've h – had the best t – time talking to you. Even after all th – that we did...I still think this is as g – good...as the initial call.”

He had to agree. He didn't know how many more awe-inspiring nights he was going to be blessed with concerning this woman. He was being spoiled and he was getting addicted to it.

“I concur. It has been quite the experience and I don't mean merely the erotic portion of it.” He decided to give his poor legs a rest and ambled to the stairs, slowly taking them up to the top floor to rest more fully. “I will certainly see you tomorrow, so long as you don't call in feigning illness because you are too embarrassed to meet me.”

She scowled, hearing the teasing in his voice. “I won't! I'm going to see you and greet you like I do every day.” She insisted.

“That's good Samara. I will hold you to that.” He stopped at the edge of his room, staring across the cold space. The lights were off save for the night and it was lonely. “You perhaps should clean up before going to sleep. I hope tonight is more peaceful for you than last.”

There would be no more unrequited frustration. Not after he fixed all that.

She stood and shuffled from the open top, grabbing shirt and pants and throwing them in the hamper near the bathroom. She stopped in front of the mirror on her door and stared at herself. She didn't see a little girl as she always had. She only saw herself in full bloom. “I wonder if this was what you talked about so long ago.” She mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“When you said you hoped I would soon look at myself with your eyes and see what you saw.” A hand rested on the mirror, her lips twitching. “All I see is a pretty, young, naked woman staring back at me in the mirror.”

He could imagine it and it didn't help stoke the fires which were watered down at her asthmatic attack. “I'm glad. Hold onto that image you see Samara. She will serve you well in the future.” He paused, feeling the urge to say farewell yet wanted to fall asleep with the phone going, as ridiculous as that was. “I will greet you in the morning. I would like to see this confident Bunty who has grown out her horns magnificently so.”

Her reflection giggled a little before she stepped away from it for the bathroom. “I'll...see if I have anything to wear f – for the occasion...”

He smiled. “I'll look forward to it Samara. Rest well and have pleasant dreams.”

He disconnected the call and heaved a sigh, feeling like she was a lifeline that had been ripped away. He already missed her and it hadn't even been a minute yet. The evening had taken such a strange, titillating road, but he didn't regret anything. He was glad he didn't dismiss her as being unprepared for everything and hung up on her. He didn't think such emotional gain would have been found had he cut them off prematurely.

He stared at the closed door to his bathroom, giving a thoughtful sigh. She mentioned a shower and he hadn't after fencing yet either. “Couldn't hurt.” He mumbled, slowly striding for it. He needed something to jog himself from everything or he wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight. He wondered if this was what she suffered through last night. If this was truly the only issue she had more than the fact that he had slept with other women.

He didn't know why that fact unsettled him a little. He pondered that as he shed his clothes and turned turned the water on. He stepped under the spray, mind wandering to all of her bright words from moments ago, seeing the rainbow of them and how they shone on him. They painted the smile on his face that he couldn't get rid of, couldn't keep the tears from forming once again.

He rose his face to the spray to wash them away, abashed and not yet used to them. He had spent so much time freezing everything for safety, finding it better than way. In the beginning it was. It had been...until she came into his life. He resented her for such a weak personality, but she was more caring and brilliant than he ever conceived. He had been a fool then and he was thankful he took a chance on her.

“ _Charles...”_

Light blue peeked open, eyes darkening and heart already sped up from the heat of the water.

“ _I f – found a few...buttons...as M – Monica called them. I th – thought...that you...could p – push them for me...sometime.”_

“Anytime Bunty...” He murmured, already twitching.

“ _You've given my ears something to remember for later should I choose. It will still be my pleasure if I warrant it, but this was about you.”_

What was the harm in something she had already done ahead of him? He had the recording of her near screams still echoing in his ears. He flipped through the files in his head, all of her gasps for air and breathy words washing over him faster than the water could meet the drain. His dominant hand twitched, a thread of uncertainty hitting him. He worried she would shy away from him after her sexual frustration had been satiated and he was only slightly concerned such a thing would happen to him. He found he didn't want to disturb the boat they were coasting in, even if she just jolted to her feet and rocked the whole thing to almost topple over.

His hand gripped his erection tightly anyway.

He hissed, teeth gripping at the sudden pressure from it all. He moved slowly, occasionally joining the moans she played in his head. From the amazing evening she presented his memories, it didn't take long to work himself into a frenzy.

“ _Charles! Yes! This...is...! I can't...fantastic! You...this...feels so good! Charles! I d – don't...want to stop!”_

“ _Then only stop when I tell you to Samara.”_

He panted. He felt mad from an urge to climax that he hadn't felt in a while. The feeling of lust that he was familiar with through Rosewood and Eva meant nothing to what she instilled in him tonight. There was an emotional base to work from, the new brickwork much sturdier than what he had created for himself years ago.

“ _Pl...ease Ch – Charles! I can't t – take it anymore! Please l – let me...stop!”_

No. Don't stop. Go till the universe ended and the stares all lived out their lives in the sky. An arm came up to keep him standing and tried to grip the wall as best he could with nothing but wet tile to hold onto.

“ _Will you do that for me? I want to hear my name from your lips when your orgasm hits.”_

The stirring of his own rushed through his blood and he choked her name, back arching forward heavily on his arm as he strained to stand. He gasped for breath, head falling forward, hair in his face as he idly watched water pour from it. His arm burned as his movements slowed, relishing in a few more strokes until he released himself and straightened.

Hands rose and slowly went through his hair, pushing it back and blankly staring at the water exit the shower head. He became stone as he let the sensations course through him and wash away back to the hidden tides they rested in on a regular basis. He finally grabbed the shampoo and actually cleaned up the rest of the way, grabbing a towel for his waist after he turned the shower off. He threw one over his head and dried his hair as much as possible.

He stopped in his room, not wanting to be there and yet needing to go to bed. He felt lost in his own body and...lonely. It was not a good feeling to experience when what he really wanted to do was drive right over to her apartment and merely hold her in his lap for a while. He felt a distinct need to keep her in his arms. She was so small and it made odd, protective feelings come forth.

He forced his feet to move and hands to grab pajamas out of his drawer. It was a hard job to put the buttons together and pull the bottoms up his legs. Once done, he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the phone on his nightstand. Her previous words about the same object combined with gasps for breath clamored around the silence, adding to his trepidation and not helping his need for sleep any.

The clock on his phone read ten-fifteen.

He hoped she was asleep and in a much better state than he was. He wished he had taken all that she experienced so she could find peace for tonight.

He finally rest in bed, hand covering his face. He sighed, her words torturing his head and puffing up his heart.

“ _Because you're a gorgeous man who is kind, giving, and you gave it to me. You're perfect. Any woman must want you...but you...you saw something in me worthwhile of your time.”_

He shifted to rest his sleeve over his eyes, letting the cotton catch anything that attempted to escape, although he didn't fight it. The yearning in his heart refused to go away, but he partially didn't want it to. It was delectable and all-encompassing. He let the conversation replay in his head until he finally rolled over and checked the time.

It was past eleven.

He sighed and tossed it on the small table. If he didn't nod off very soon, he wasn't going to be able to greet her with the vigor that he bet she was going to give him. Just like a few days ago. Thinking about it made his own smile form. He was suddenly looking forward to that brilliant smile which lit up the rest of his morning and made emails more agreeable to go through. Contracts were hard, but whenever he took a sip of the coffee she had bought him, it brought a smile and warmth to his cheeks before he got back to work with renewed fervor.

Originally, he had worked up her confidence to be his next boss. Once he found she didn't want it, something in him still desired to see what she could be. After finding out how passionate she was about certain things in life, it threw logs to the fire that kept him coming back to her. To keeping in line with making her do the self-love exercises that he liked watching her do. Her embraces, shy smiles, emboldening words that lacked a stutter, and her attractive figure were sparkles to his gray days of work and fencing.

“ _Thank you. I wish I could give you a great big hug to explain myself better, but I can't.”_

“As do I Samara.” He sighed.

“ _I should be thanking you ten times more than you thank me for such paltry actions.”_

“ _I wonder if this was what you talked about so long ago. All I see is a...pretty, young, naked woman staring back at me in the mirror.”_

Was pretty all she saw herself as? He would need to do more to work on that then. He wouldn't stop until nothing less than the words 'magnificent, gorgeous', and 'worth it' came from her lips. The twinge of resolve fanned his emotions into the back corner, allowing him to close his eyes and let exhaustion finally catch up with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for the nosebleeds and fluff! That's how I roll. XD


	16. back to normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her heart was pounding, but not out of fear or embarrassment. She wanted to see him. She wanted to see that smile she heard on the phone a few times when he teased her, to hug her like she so direly wished, to chat with him like nothing had ever occurred and have coffee at her table for even a few moments. She wanted to be near him, but not in a sexual way. She really enjoyed his company and felt like they had grown closer to what she had originally asked of him had that Irish coffee not gotten in her way.

_Work_ _was_ _tedious._ _Absolutely_ _boring._ _She_ _felt_ _like_ _she_ _had_ _been_ _stuck_ _in_ _this_ _office_ _for_ _days._ _She_ _had_ _no_ _clue_ _what_ _time_ _it_ _was_ _as_ _her_ _computer_ _clock_ _appeared_ _to_ _be_ _broken._ _She_ _heaved_ _a_ _sigh,_ _wishing_ _she_ _didn't_ _have_ _to_ _be_ _having_ _to_ _go_ _through_ _emails_ _and_ _contract_ _details._ _A_ _hand_ _propped_ _up_ _her_ _head_ _facing_ _the_ _far wall_ _._ _She_ _stared_ _out_ _at_ _the_ _blue_ _sky_ _through_ _open_ _windows,_ _the_ _blinds_ _pulled_ _up._ _The_ _color_ _reminded_ _her_ _of_ _a_ _certain_ _someone_ _and_ _she_ _smiled._

_As_ _if_ _reading_ _her_ _mind,_ _there_ _was_ _a_ _quiet_ _knock_ _on_ _the_ _door._

_She_ _jerked_ _to_ _attention,_ _the_ _knob_ _turning_ _before_ _she_ _could_ _acknowledge_ _whoever_ _it_ _was_ _and_ _bid_ _them_ _to_ _enter._ _She_ _sat_ _back_ _when_ _a_ _familiar_ _blond_ _head_ _poked_ _his_ _way_ _in,_ _smile_ _accompanying_ _him._

“ _Good_ _afternoon_ _Miss_ _Young._ _Do_ _you_ _have_ _a_ _minute?_ _”_

_She_ _wanted_ _to_ _say_ _that_ _she_ _had_ _all_ _the_ _time_ _in_ _the_ _world_ _for_ _him,_ _but_ _held_ _herself_ _back_ _and_ _merely_ _nodded._ _She_ _looked_ _to_ _a_ _small_ _stack_ _of_ _papers_ _in_ _his_ _hand_ _and_ _her_ _smile_ _fell_ _to_ _slightly_ _irked._ _“_ _I_ _hope_ _you_ _don't_ _want_ _me_ _to_ _do_ _all_ _of_ _that_ _by_ _myself._ _”_

“ _Nonsense_ _Miss_ _Young._ _I_ _was_ _going_ _to_ _go_ _over_ _this_ _contract_ _with_ _you_ _to_ _teach_ _you_ _a_ _few_ _things_ _about_ _the_ _client._ _I_ _thought_ _it_ _may_ _help_ _you_ _in_ _your_ _future_ _gaming_ _needs._ _”_

_She_ _perked_ _up_ _and_ _stood,_ _meeting_ _him_ _at_ _the_ _edge_ _of_ _the_ _desk._ _“_ _Would_ _you_ _like_ _to_ _use_ _the_ _table_ _or_ _the_ _couch?_ _”_

“ _Hmm,_ _the_ _couch_ _might_ _be_ _more_ _comfortable._ _This_ _may_ _take_ _a_ _while._ _”_

_A_ _brow_ _rose,_ _but_ _she_ _shrugged_ _and_ _followed_ _him_ _over,_ _crossing_ _her_ _legs_ _in_ _the_ _pencil_ _skirt_ _that_ _showed_ _off_ _her_ _knees...or_ _would_ _have_ _if_ _the_ _the_ _dark_ _pantyhose_ _would've_ _shone_ _anything_ _much._ _She_ _rested_ _arms_ _on_ _her_ _thighs_ _as_ _she_ _leaned_ _forward,_ _glad_ _he_ _was_ _here_ _to_ _make_ _the_ _day_ _go_ _by_ _faster._ _“_ _So,_ _what_ _are_ _we_ _starting_ _with_ _first?_ _”_ _He_ _said_ _and_ _she_ _looked_ _up_ _to_ _find_ _a_ _slightly_ _astounded_ _look_ _directed_ _to_ _her_ _legs._ _“_ _Charles?_ _”_ _Her_ _eyes_ _followed_ _him._ _“_ _Is_ _something_ _wrong_ _with_ _what_ _I'm_ _wearing?_ _I've_ _been_ _trying_ _my_ _best_ _lately_ _to_ _do_ _as_ _you_ _said_ _and_ _be_ _more_ _professional_ _in_ _the_ _office._ _”_

“ _Yes._ _I_ _mean_ _no._ _It's_ _fine_ _Miss_ _Young._ _I_ _just...didn't_ _think_ _you_ _owned_ _any_ _heels,_ _let_ _alone_ _so_ _fancy._ _”_

_She_ _looked_ _down,_ _rotating_ _her_ _foot_ _on_ _the_ _two_ _inch_ _heel._ _“_ _I_ _don't_ _see_ _what's_ _so_ _major_ _about_ _them._ _They_ _just_ _have_ _a_ _center_ _strap_ _that_ _connects_ _to_ _the_ _ankle_ _is_ _all._ _Monica_ _said_ _they_ _went_ _with_ _the_ _outfit_ _nicely._ _”_

_She_ _looked_ _up_ _when_ _he_ _cleared_ _his_ _throat,_ _finding_ _his_ _eyes_ _higher...and_ _yet_ _still_ _much_ _lower_ _than_ _her_ _face._ _Her_ _face_ _warmed_ _a_ _little._ _“_ _The_ _shirt...is_ _too_ _tight,_ _isn't_ _it?_ _I_ _worried_ _that_ _might_ _be_ _the_ _case._ _”_ _She_ _sat_ _back,_ _arm_ _crossing_ _over_ _her_ _chest._ _“_ _It_ _seems_ _like_ _the_ _only_ _things_ _in_ _my_ _closet_ _are_ _for_ _someone_ _twice_ _my_ _size_ _or_ _half_ _of_ _it._ _”_ _She_ _lamely_ _cracked_ _in_ _attempt_ _to_ _jog_ _him_ _from_ _whatever_ _funk_ _was_ _going_ _through_ _him._ _She_ _smiled_ _and_ _leaned_ _forward,_ _hand_ _extending_ _for_ _the_ _paper_ _on_ _the_ _other_ _side_ _of_ _his_ _lap._

_She_ _stopped_ _when_ _something_ _met_ _her_ _nose._

“ _Oh...you're_ _wearing_ _your_ _cologne_ _today?_ _”_

“ _Is_ _it_ _a_ _problem_ _Miss_ _Young?_ _”_

_She_ _demurely_ _smiled,_ _looking_ _at_ _him_ _over_ _her_ _glasses._ _“_ _No..._ _I_ _really_ _like_ _it._ _”_ _The_ _hand_ _switched_ _positions_ _and_ _rested_ _in_ _between_ _them,_ _pushing_ _down_ _the_ _cushions_ _next_ _to_ _his_ _thigh._ _“_ _Where_ _do_ _you_ _usually_ _apply_ _it?_ _”_ _She_ _leaned_ _forward,_ _torso_ _too_ _short_ _to_ _reach_ _his_ _neck,_ _so_ _she_ _brought_ _her_ _face_ _to_ _his_ _chest._ _“_ _Here?_ _”_

“ _Samara?!_ _”_

_She_ _looked_ _up,_ _smiling_ _curling_ _her_ _lips._ _“_ _Am_ _I_ _wrong?_ _”_

_She_ _found_ _a_ _flush_ _on_ _his_ _face_ _and_ _looking_ _slightly_ _uncomfortable_ _at_ _her_ _behavior,_ _but_ _she_ _knew_ _right_ _well_ _that_ _she_ _had_ _just_ _stunned_ _him_ _to_ _silence._ _She_ _knew_ _by_ _the_ _quick_ _change_ _as_ _he_ _lost_ _his_ _discomfort_ _and_ _dropped_ _the_ _papers_ _on_ _the_ _cushion_ _behind_ _him._ _“_ _Actually,_ _it's_ _here._ _But_ _you're_ _too_ _short_ _to_ _reach,_ _so_ _permit_ _me_ _to_ _demonstrate._ _”_

_She_ _said_ _nothing,_ _merely_ _watched_ _as_ _his_ _head_ _came_ _down,_ _lips_ _rubbing_ _the_ _vein_ _in_ _her_ _neck._ _She_ _exhaled_ _a_ _shuddery_ _breath,_ _head_ _arching_ _back_ _as_ _she_ _felt_ _his_ _hands_ _on_ _either_ _side_ _of_ _her_ _back_ _to_ _keep_ _her_ _upright._ _“_ _Is...there_ _anyplace_ _else?_ _”_ _She_ _nearly_ _panted,_ _heart_ _pounding._

“ _Actually,_ _there_ _are_ _a_ _few_ _more_ _spots._ _If_ _it's_ _okay_ _to_ _show_ _you_ _that_ _is._ _”_

“ _Please_ _do._ _Satiate_ _my_ _curiosity_ _Charles._ _”_

“ _As_ _you_ _wish_ _Bunty_ _._ _”_

_His_ _mouth_ _spent_ _time_ _on_ _the_ _other_ _artery_ _that_ _fluttered_ _when_ _his_ _lips_ _sucked_ _on_ _it._ _He_ _licked_ _her_ _neck_ _a_ _few_ _times,_ _drawing_ _out_ _the_ _moans_ _she_ _wanted_ _to_ _give._ _She_ _went_ _to_ _clutch_ _at_ _the_ _suspenders_ _he_ _was_ _wearing,_ _but_ _he_ _pulled_ _away_ _and_ _a_ _hand_ _gently_ _took_ _hold_ _of_ _hers._ _His_ _hands_ _were_ _warmer_ _than_ _hers,_ _which_ _made_ _sense_ _since_ _her_ _top_ _was_ _short-sleeved_ _and_ _his_ _wasn't._ _She_ _watched_ _him_ _draw_ _the_ _inside_ _of_ _her_ _wrist_ _to_ _his_ _mouth,_ _watching_ _her_ _with_ _piercing_ _blue_ _eyes_ _as_ _he_ _licked_ _the_ _nerves._ _She_ _shook_ _and_ _it_ _was_ _delicious._

“ _Is_ _that...the_ _only_ _thing...you're_ _going_ _to_ _touch_ _your_ _mouth_ _to?_ _”_ _She_ _heard_ _herself_ _say,_ _head_ _clouding_ _from_ _the_ _breath_ _over_ _her_ _skin._

_He_ _paused_ _and_ _stared_ _at_ _her._ _She_ _could_ _feel_ _the_ _smile_ _form_ _before_ _she_ _fully_ _saw_ _it._ _He_ _leaned_ _over_ _her_ _and_ _she_ _let_ _him,_ _feeling_ _the_ _anticipation_ _at_ _wanting_ _him_ _to_ _cover_ _his_ _body_ _with_ _hers._ _“_ _Pray_ _tell_ _Bunty,_ _where_ _would_ _you_ _like_ _me_ _to_ _go_ _to_ _next?_ _”_

_She_ _could_ _feel_ _the_ _slight_ _pressure_ _of_ _his_ _chest_ _meeting_ _hers._ _Every_ _breath_ _she_ _took_ _agitated_ _the_ _feeling_ _in_ _her_ _legs_ _and_ _yet_ _it_ _was_ _a_ _pittance._ _He_ _seemed_ _totally_ _oblivious_ _to_ _it_ _or_ _he_ _was_ _relishing_ _in_ _it_ _and_ _wasn't_ _going_ _to_ _say_ _anything._

_Well,_ _that_ _wouldn't_ _do_ _now..._

“ _Kiss_ _me._ _Like_ _you_ _want_ _me._ _”_

“ _As_ _you_ _wish_ _Samara._ _”_

_His_ _lips_ _pressed_ _against_ _hers,_ _his_ _hand_ _on_ _the_ _back_ _of_ _her_ _neck_ _to_ _apply_ _extra_ _pressure._ _His_ _tongue_ _was_ _merciless_ _and_ _he_ _didn't_ _give_ _her_ _time_ _to_ _catch_ _up._ _She_ _kissed_ _him_ _as_ _best_ _she_ _could,_ _feelings_ _mounting_ _as_ _she_ _clutched_ _his_ _shirt_ _to_ _keep_ _from_ _drowning_ _in_ _him._ _He_ _was_ _both_ _a_ _lifeboat_ _and_ _rocks_ _that_ _she_ _hit_ _which_ _was_ _quickly_ _doing_ _damage_ _to_ _her_ _sanity._

“ _Charles._ _”_ _She_ _mumbled_ _around_ _his_ _mouth_ _when_ _he_ _pulled_ _back_ _for_ _half_ _a_ _second._ _“_ _More._ _Please._ _Touch_ _me_ _in_ _other_ _places._ _”_

_His_ _hand_ _left_ _her_ _head_ _and_ _trailed_ _down_ _the_ _back_ _of_ _her_ _shirt._ _“_ _Your_ _shirt_ _seems_ _a_ _tad_ _ill-fitting_ _you_ _Bunty._ _Perhaps_ _I_ _should_ _relieve_ _you_ _of_ _its_ _discomforts._ _”_

_He_ _opened_ _one_ _button_ _at_ _a_ _time_ _till_ _her_ _skirt_ _got_ _in_ _the_ _way_ _from_ _where_ _she_ _had_ _tucked_ _it_ _in._ _He_ _exposed_ _her_ _bra_ _to_ _his_ _eyes_ _and_ _his_ _fingers_ _as_ _they_ _slowly_ _trailed_ _up_ _her_ _skin,_ _leaving_ _shivers_ _of_ _his_ _touch_ _in_ _their_ _wake._ _His_ _face_ _lowered_ _to_ _the_ _valley_ _of_ _her_ _chest,_ _yet_ _he_ _paused_ _before_ _reaching_ _it._ _“_ _Is_ _here_ _the_ _next_ _location_ _you_ _were_ _thinking_ _of_ _Samara?_ _”_

“ _It...is_ _now._ _”_ _She_ _somehow_ _got_ _out._ _“_ _You'll_ _have_ _to_ _manage._ _I'm_ _kind_ _of_ _stuck_ _like_ _this._ _”_

_With_ _her_ _shirt_ _half_ _tucked_ _in,_ _unbuttoned as much as possible_ _,_ _and_ _yet_ _stuck_ _against_ _her_ _upper_ _arms_ _as_ _they_ _sharply angled_ _behind_ _her._

“ _Right_ _where_ _I_ _think_ _I_ _like_ _you._ _”_ _He_ _murmured,_ _tongue_ _coming_ _out_ _and_ _discovering_ _everything_ _before_ _his_ _mouth_ _could._ _“_ _You_ _smell_ _good._ _Is_ _that_ _perfume_ _I_ _smell?_ _”_

“ _Y_ _–_ _yes..._ _”_

“ _Should_ _I_ _ask_ _where_ _you_ _sprayed_ _it?_ _Or_ _perhaps_ _guess_ _for_ _myself_ _and_ _you_ _may_ _negate_ _or_ _affirm_ _for_ _me?_ _”_ _His_ _tongue_ _trailed_ _up_ _her_ _chest_ _to_ _her_ _collarbone._ _“_ _Was_ _it_ _here?_ _”_

“ _No..._ _”_ _She_ _rasped._

_He_ _licked_ _his_ _way_ _up_ _to_ _the_ _fluttering_ _pulse_ _at_ _her_ _neck_ _and_ _sucked_ _for_ _a_ _second._ _“_ _How_ _about_ _here?_ _”_

“ _Y...yes..._ _And_ _the_ _other_ _side._ _”_

“ _Ah,_ _ah._ _No_ _hints_ _now._ _”_ _Their_ _eyes_ _met,_ _hers_ _clouded_ _and_ _his_ _looking_ _like_ _he_ _was_ _fully_ _enjoying_ _himself._ _“_ _But_ _I_ _will_ _take_ _the_ _glaring_ _sign_ _you_ _are_ _presenting_ _to_ _me._ _”_

_His_ _hand_ _swept_ _back_ _the_ _hair_ _she_ _left_ _out_ _of_ _the_ _half_ _ponytail_ _and_ _helped_ _cradle_ _her_ _head_ _as_ _he_ _gave_ _as_ _much_ _attention_ _to_ _the_ _identical_ _vein_ _on_ _the_ _other_ _side._ _He_ _seemed_ _content_ _to_ _make_ _her_ _squirm_ _like_ _that_ _for_ _heartbeats_ _until_ _he_ _pulled_ _away_ _and_ _then_ _she_ _felt_ _his_ _breath_ _in_ _her_ _ear._

“ _I_ _want_ _you_ _to_ _play_ _with_ _your_ _breasts_ _for_ _me_ _Samara._ _”_

_Her_ _eyes_ _popped_ _open_ _and_ _stared_ _at_ _the_ _fire_ _in_ _his_ _eyes._ _She_ _harshly_ _swallowed_ _and_ _nodded,_ _sitting_ _up_ _to_ _use_ _her_ _hands_ _and_ _moving_ _her_ _bra_ _out_ _of_ _the_ _way._ _She_ _stared_ _at_ _him_ _as_ _he_ _watched_ _her_ _fingers,_ _teeth_ _trying_ _to_ _gnaw_ _her_ _lower_ _lip_ _off._

“ _Pinch_ _yourself._ _”_

_She_ _did_ _and_ _moaned,_ _head_ _falling_ _forward._ _She_ _felt_ _his_ _finger_ _direct_ _her_ _chin_ _up_ _and_ _a_ _heated_ _face_ _met_ _stormy_ _blue._ _“_ _What_ _else...should_ _I_ _do?_ _”_ _She_ _gasped,_ _not_ _stopping._

“ _Come_ _here._ _”_

_She_ _paused_ _long_ _enough_ _to_ _watch_ _him_ _shift_ _on_ _the_ _couch_ _with_ _his_ _back_ _resting_ _fully_ _against_ _the_ _upper_ _part._ _His_ _hands_ _rested_ _at_ _his_ _sides_ _and_ _he_ _stared_ _at_ _her._ _The_ _light_ _bulb_ _quickly_ _turned_ _on_ _and_ _she_ _climbed_ _in_ _his_ _lap,_ _straddling_ _his_ _legs_ _and_ _kissed_ _him_ _before_ _he_ _suggested_ _her_ _to._ _She_ _leaned_ _over_ _him,_ _pressing_ _her_ _chest_ _against_ _his_ _tightly,_ _hands_ _delving_ _into_ _his_ _hair_ _and_ _shifting_ _the_ _back_ _strands_ _loose._ _His_ _hands_ _grabbed_ _her_ _hips_ _tightly_ _for_ _a_ _bit_ _before_ _they_ _shifted_ _down_ _the_ _front_ _of_ _her_ _thighs._

_Her_ _eyes_ _popped_ _open_ _and_ _she_ _stared_ _at_ _him._ _“_ _Charles?_ _”_

_Swollen_ _lips_ _curled._ _“_ _Your_ _skirt_ _seems_ _quite_ _tight_ _Bunty._ _I_ _was_ _thinking_ _of_ _remedying_ _that_ _problem_ _for_ _you._ _”_

_She_ _found_ _herself_ _copying_ _his_ _look,_ _eying_ _how_ _she_ _had_ _done_ _a_ _fine_ _job_ _of_ _mussing_ _the_ _business_ _look_ _he_ _seemed_ _to_ _always_ _carry._ _A_ _hand_ _rubbed_ _up_ _his_ _tie_ _until_ _she_ _gripped_ _near_ _the_ _top._ _“_ _By_ _all_ _means._ _I_ _could_ _use_ _the...assistance._ _”_

_His_ _fingers_ _curled_ _when_ _they_ _reached_ _the_ _hemline_ _and_ _the_ _nails_ _she_ _felt_ _slightly_ _scratching_ _her_ _punched_ _her_ _low_ _in_ _the_ _gut._ _Her_ _jaw_ _clenched,_ _eyes_ _never_ _leaving_ _his_ _as_ _she_ _watched_ _his_ _smile_ _droop_ _a_ _little_ _as_ _fire_ _escaped_ _his_ _eyes._ _She_ _was_ _already_ _aching_ _for_ _him_ _and_ _trembled_ _on_ _top_ _of_ _him_ _even_ _when_ _his_ _hands_ _completed_ _their_ _job_ _and_ _the_ _fabric_ _was_ _bunched_ _above_ _the_ _top_ _of_ _the_ _skirt._ _Lithe_ _digits_ _rested_ _over_ _the_ _curve_ _of_ _her_ _behind_ _and_ _massaged._ _“_ _How_ _are_ _you_ _feeling?_ _”_

_The_ _grip_ _on_ _his_ _tie_ _turned_ _lethal._ _“_ _Needy._ _Very...very_ _needy._ _For_ _you_ _Charles._ _What...can_ _I_ _do_ _about_ _that?_ _”_

“ _Perhaps_ _I_ _may_ _assist_ _you?_ _I_ _do_ _have_ _a_ _few...ideas..._ _”_ _His_ _hands_ _inched_ _down,_ _curving_ _around_ _her_ _inner_ _thighs._ _“_ _Sit_ _up_ _just_ _a_ _bit_ _for_ _me_ _Bunty._ _”_

_She_ _did_ _as_ _ordered_ _and_ _a_ _finger_ _moved_ _past_ _her_ _underwear._ _She_ _cried_ _out,_ _eyes_ _squeezing_ _shut._ _“_ _Y_ _–_ _yes._ _”_ _She_ _breathed,_ _gripping_ _his_ _shoulders_ _as_ _a_ _lifeline._ _“_ _Ah!_ _D_ _–_ _do_ _that...again!_ _”_

“ _As_ _you_ _wish_ _Samara._ _”_

_His_ _finger_ _exited_ _and_ _inserted_ _itself_ _so_ _slowly_ _it_ _was_ _torture._ _Beautiful,_ _agonizing,_ _erotic_ _torture._ _She_ _wanted_ _to_ _grind_ _herself_ _on_ _his_ _hand_ _as_ _it_ _seemed_ _in_ _no_ _rush_ _to_ _bring_ _anything_ _more_ _with_ _its_ _motions._ _She_ _whimpered_ _against_ _it,_ _still_ _not_ _satisfied_ _with_ _just_ _that._ _“_ _More...Charles._ _More._ _Please._ _I...need_ _more._ _”_

“ _Sit_ _a_ _little_ _higher._ _”_ _He_ _nearly_ _whispered._ _She_ _did_ _as_ _commanded_ _and_ _found_ _more_ _fingers_ _attacking_ _the_ _front_ _part_ _of_ _her_ _inner_ _thighs,_ _his_ _mouth_ _sucking_ _on_ _a_ _nipple_ _she_ _had_ _pulled_ _from_ _its_ _confines._

“ _Yes!_ _Ah!_ _Charles!_ _Faster...more!_ _”_

_The_ _feeling_ _surged_ _through_ _her._ _The_ _edge_ _was_ _near_ _and_ _she_ _could_ _feel_ _everything_ _building._ _She_ _egged_ _him_ _on_ _with_ _her_ _noises,_ _clutching_ _at_ _his_ _neck_ _as_ _it_ _pulled_ _taunt_ _like_ _a_ _rubber-band_ _and_ _then_ _was_ _released._

Her eyes jolted open to find her hips bucking into the mattress as her orgasm washed over her. The feelings were mixed with disorder and utter bafflement as to what was going on and where she was. It kept her in the grips for a few more moments before she sunk into the mattress, struggling to breathe around her pillow.

'Where? Wasn't I at the office? Charles was... Wait, Charles?!'

She bolted up in bed as best she could on shaky limbs and looked around. “Yea right...like he was here...” She mumbled, scratching a tousled head. The dream still weighed heavily on her consciousness and she harshly swallowed against everything making her vibrate. Last night must have had more of an effect on her than she thought. But it wasn't surprising since the merged man showed up right after the initial 'exposure therapy' after Angela and Vikki gave her the sites.

She found Bowser at the edge of the bed and smiled his way. He looked happy to see her and it jogged the fog in her brain. At least until he jumped up on the bed and started sniffing her upper legs.

“Go Bowser! Shoo! Don't make me more self-conscious than I am right now!”

She put him on the floor again and moved the covers away fully to get up. She found out she was sweaty all over again and headed to the shower to clean up again. She stared at her chest in the mirror, remembering how his mouth was there in her dream...hands busy elsewhere much further south.

She shuddered at the pleasure threatening to build again. She leaned over the sink and glared at herself. “Stop that! You have work today and you have to be able to talk to Charles somehow!”

She probably would have been better had that accursed dream not shown up. She actually slept fantastic, until he showed up in the office and started playing with her.

Fingers pinched the bridge of her nose. “This might be just as bad as having never called him last night...” She groused, almost lamenting having done anything in the first place.

Almost.

Dark brown peeked open over her hand, lips finally rising. She wouldn't trade last night for the world or any high level tier gear for her entire guild. That was something she never knew she could ever encounter and he helped make it so. She owed him a lot and was now in his debt whether he considered it or not. Her lips climbed higher. “Maybe it couldn't hurt to pay him back a bit. I certainly have quite the bill wracked up.” She managed a quick giggle before heading into the shower, the dream fully stowed away and much less hard on herself than moments ago.

She headed into the room in a towel and stared at the open door. She remembered the outfit she had on. Her lips pursed in thought. She didn't own those kinds of shoes that she was aware, but the rest might be manageable...

As it turned out, she did own those ankle strapped heels.

“Have I ever worn these?” She mumbled in confusion, putting them on around dark pantyhose. “These must be from mom too.” She snorted. “Maybe I should go hunting through my closet and pull all of these forgotten relics out before they rust.”

She dared stand in front of the mirror to put on the makeup she hadn't used yet. The mascara went on, as did her attempt at eye liner, but she removed it as she didn't feel good enough to use it. She missed a few spots, but they actually looked fairly good in the 'barely there' look she unintentionally did. She looked to the lipstick Monica gave, not brave enough to put it on. Even if it went well with the color of the shirt.

“Did mom just buy me all purple stuff?” She pondered, brow going up. “I mean, it does a pretty good job going with my hair, but seriously...”

She remembered the half ponytail and copied it, tucking the blouse back in as her arms tugged it from the skirt again. It was much tighter, shorter, and flattering than she'd worn in maybe a month or two. She twirled as best she could, trying to take it all in from the theoretical open door she threw so hard against the wall the knob cracked the wall behind it and left a dent.

“ _I_ _think_ _you_ _need_ _to_ _give_ _yourself_ _some_ _more_ _credit._ _I_ _know_ _what_ _my_ _eyes_ _see._ _And_ _I_ _see_ _a_ _beautiful,_ _young_ _woman_ _before_ _me._ _I_ _hope_ _that_ _one_ _day_ _you_ _will_ _look_ _in_ _the_ _mirror_ _and_ _see_ _yourself_ _with_ _my_ _eyes_ _and_ _be_ _able_ _to_ _smile_ _back_ _at_ _yourself._ _”_

Hands clapped over her cheeks as she started giggling. She felt like she wouldn't be able to stop and let those positive words from that dinner roam through her head until Bowser barked and jogged her from herself. “Alright Bowser, we can go outside.” She quickly looked down at herself. “Just as we are.”

The chill of the morning was there, but she refused to get a jacket. She took a deep breath for courage, feeling stronger enough to handle this.

A door clicked open just as she was a few steps away from her door and she turned in wonder at whom it was.

“Sam?! Wow, you look great!”

She met Marshall's wide eyes that looked at her outfit. She beamed, accepting his compliment quicker than she figured she would. “Thanks! I was just taking Bowser for a walk before work. What are you doing out?”

“I was just going to get some air too. Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all. I don't have a whole lot of time though. I need a coffee from The Daily Grind.”

“You're speaking my language more and more Sam. Perhaps I could tag along?”

She picked up on his slightly eager tone, Monica's words coming back to her. She pasted the smile back up, wanting to be there a little more happiness than she had been. She didn't know such things happened to him and wasn't there to help him feel better. Their last meeting a few days ago had her rushing away for her own troubles. Despite how much she really wanted to see Charles, she didn't want to avoid Marshall for it. “Sure. I'll have to part ways with you there and take a different bus to work if that's fine.”

“Totally cool.”

Marshall started off and she picked up stride, although she couldn't clack after him fast enough to keep up. “Marshall...could you slow down just a bit? Darn pencil skirts. Why do women wear these anyway?”

Marshall chuckled and slowed till Samara had caught up. “Usually because they look really good I'm guessing. But you'd know better than I would I suppose.”

“I don't wear these that much. Today is...kind of special.”

Marshall looked down, seeing red around makeup and his brows went up before a suspicious smile crept up. “Does it have anything to do with Charles and you stopping at my door recently?”

At the mention of his name, her face flamed and Samara stuttered a little. She quickly cleared her throat, not able to discuss such intimate things with Marshall. He was a friend, but not a female friend. “Ah...n – not...exactly.” She gripped the banister and prayed she didn't miss a step and tumble all the way to the bottom. “But...kind of. Th – that's all...I'd prefer to say about that.”

Marshall was quiet until they reached the bottom and then his hand patted a shoulder. “Say no more Sam. I think I understand completely. Consider the topic changed.” Marshall looked away toward the park. “Now, what's this cute pupper's usual route?” He leaned down, eyes hopeful. “Hey cutie. Still mad at me?”

Bowser shuffled behind her legs a little and stared up with wide eyes.

“I'm sorry Marshall.” Sam gave a sympathetic look to Marshall's obviously sad one. “You must really love dogs.”

“I do. They're just so outgoing and affectionate and honest and they always love you no matter what. Kinda hard to hate that.”

“Why don't you get one of your own then?”

“Nah. Monica said that I could always watch Dinah. I've got that to tide me over.”

She was silent as she idly watched Bowser attempt to sniff every blade of grass, good mood dying a little at the mention of Monica. She fought for words until she paused with Bowser and looked to Marshall. “Um...listen Marshall. I'm so sorry I made you sad about Monica the other day. I didn't know anything had happened between you two and -”

“Don't worry Sam. It's not like you were aware. No biggie.”

She took a step forward. “I am going to worry! You two look so good together! I was so sad when I heard from Monica that you two were on hiatus. I think she misses you a lot too. I told her 'hi' like you asked.”

She stared at him, wanting to give him another hug at the obviously downtrodden look on his face, but held herself back in public. She gripped the leash, trying to convey her hope through her eyes.

“Thanks Sam. I appreciate it. Really. There's nothing to be done about it and I miss her a lot. She's been a big part of my life for a while and now she's suddenly gone for now. We'll make it right again soon. Don't you worry.”

She registered the pat on her shoulder and kept in stride when he slowly turned in a random direction. “I'm here if you need a shoulder to cry on Marshall. I hope you know that. Anytime you need an ear to talk to.”

Marshall grinned. “You're such a great friend Sam.”

She knew that was his way of closing the topic and sighed at the resolve. She took Bowser back upstairs real quick with Marshall in tow, locking the door behind her and heading back downstairs with her bag for work. “Thanks for waiting.” She responded, lightly grasping a strap.

“No problem. I needed to work up an appetite and not being able to exercise is starting to get to me.”

She grinned as they started down the stairs again, waiting at the bus stop and getting on with a small group of people. Marshall gave her the open seat and refused to let her stand despite still wearing the bracelet from the hospital. He only mentioned that he would be able to get off the bus faster and first in line to get his coffee before her. She rolled her eyes and was silent. She let him do so when they showed up, taking time to look at the menu.

Her eyes widened as something she didn't know how she missed.

“Is that new Dee?” She asked, pointing at the cow and a coffee cup.

“Oh no. It's been there for a few days.”

“It has?! How'd I miss that when I came in the other day?”

Dee grinned. “You were a tad preoccupied from your date. It's understandable.”

Samara flushed a little. “I was unaware you were using ladders now.” She half-joked, brow going up.

“Oh I'm not. This is his handiwork.”

Samara followed Dee's arm at Marshall and her eyes widened. “Marshall, you made this?!”

Marshall's head whipped around at his name, finding Sam pointing at the chalkboard behind to the kissing cow latte. He grinned. “Guilty.”

Samara shouldn't have been so surprised that he had done the artwork because she found the sketchpad in his recording room months ago and snuck a peek at it. She didn't bother to remember that because she wasn't as good of terms with him then as she was now. She smiled his way before turning to Dee. “I'll take one of that then please. And I need a...hmm, let's see...two blueberry muffins and another one of those extra coffees that I ordered a few days ago.”

“What's the occasion? You certainly seem to be in a better mood today. Did you get all of whatever was bothering you yesterday worked out?”

Samara's face heated as Charles's sultry voice floated through her ears. She gave a nervous laugh, hand coming up to put a chunk of hair behind an ear. “Ah...w – well...I g – guess you could s – say that... Kind of... Maybe... Yea.”

Dee's brow went up, but she knew that look. A hand rose in between them. “Okay. That's all I need to know. I'm going to get working on this extra stuff you're not going to eat.”

Samara flushed further, but didn't have time to be embarrassed as Link came out from the back room and locked eyes. “Wow Sam, you look great! Is there another occasion you're celebrating?”

'Would people stop asking me about last night?!' Hands clapped over her cheeks, wondering if she'd burn her fingers on her skin before they could get to her coffee.

As unpleasant as it was to be reminded of having phone sex with Charles, somehow doing normal daily activities made it less grand than she felt it was. Perhaps it did a better job of desensitizing her like Monica said. She mumbled a very vague response that didn't incriminate her or make Link really uncomfortable.

It was sad that she had to part for work, but she was also really looking forward to greeting Charles like she said. She paused only for a moment to say goodbye to Marshall as he hung out on the patio and had his own morning breakfast. She waved as she headed to the bus stop and yet again when she got on. She watched The Daily Grind shrink and then disappear as the bus rounded the corner. She felt the heat from the coffee cups, but refused to drink it until she gave Charles his. A thumb met her teeth in thought. 'I wonder if he's eaten yet...' Her eyes strayed to the bag in her lap. 'I wonder if he likes blueberry muffins. It was that or chocolate chip. Those are Dee's best muffins. Maybe...he could sit with me and chat and we can just have coffee together. I am early again...'

She held onto hope despite telling herself that Charles always got right to work, early or not. Once he was in the building, he was business until the evening. Still, that little thread of excitement refused to be snuffed out. It wove into last night and her heart picked up a little as she stared at the building Young Technologies was in. She gulped, hands clutching the goodies a little tighter before heading in.

“ _I will certainly see you tomorrow, so long as you don't call in feigning illness because you are too embarrassed to meet me.”_

“ _I won't! I'm going to see you and greet you like I do every day.”_

Her heart was pounding, but not out of fear or embarrassment. She wanted to see him. She wanted to see that smile she heard on the phone a few times when he teased her, to hug her like she so direly wished, to chat with him like nothing had ever occurred and have coffee at her table for even a few moments. She wanted to be near him, but not in a sexual way. She really enjoyed his company and felt like they had grown closer to what she had originally asked of him had that Irish coffee not gotten in her way.

Emboldened by her feelings, she squared her shoulders and headed inside.

“Good morning Lucy.”

“Wow Sam. You look great. You seem better than yesterday. Life turned around pretty quick for you, huh?”

She flushed, not getting used to everyone bringing up something they didn't know about. “I s – suppose. I'll be in my office. Please tell Charles to stop by before he heads to his office, would you?”

Lucy smiled almost knowingly. “Can do Sam.” Her eyes fell as a smell hit her nose. “Two coffees again huh?”

She bashfully smiled and nodded. “Yea. Anyway...I'll be in my office.”

The coffee and muffins went to her table. She didn't feel like doing any work just yet. She didn't feel like she could until she greeted Charles like she was really looking forward to right now. She couldn't pace in such a short skirt, so settled for staring out the window to pass the time, finger idly tapping on her arm in nervous anticipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam's outfit seems to be on the Almighty Mongie's Patreon because it's not on her instagram. The best I can describe it for those that pay for it: Charles has her hands above her head and against the wall. I just used the outfits for reference.


	17. breakfast and lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was here and he looked great. The fact that he was in suspenders threw the dream smack in her face and it heated like the sun. She shuffled a step, berating herself for losing it at work. The whole time since she put her bag on the shelving was filled with mental coaching and ordering to be professional and friendly. She wasn't going to shy away from him or make things awkward!

“Good morning Lucy.”

“Good morning Charles...”

He stopped at the syrupy tone of voice and looked over the reception desk with a raised brow. There was a grin meeting his eyes and he didn't know if he wanted to walk away or ask questions.

“Sam is already here. She told me to inform you when you got in to stop by her office before you head into yours.”

His brows went up, although his heart skipped a beat just a little. He merely nodded, already turning for the hallway housing both of their offices. “Thank you Lucy. I will be meeting with Miss Young for now. If I am needed, ring her office phone.”

He saw the door wide open before he passed the threshold. Anticipation was higher than he expected and he took a breath to steady himself, his steps purposefully slow. Lucy was still in eyesight and she was already nosing herself into something she didn't need to. He didn't want to give her anything else to talk about. The last time she interrupted them in his office was bad enough.

He headed into the room, eyes on her desk to greet her, but it was empty. A brow went up in confusion and his gaze whipped to the other side of the long room. He stopped dead in his tracks at the vision looking out the window.

The hourglass figure was tantalizing and was too dangerous on his nerves. Moans and gasps echoed in his ears as he kept staring and his hands clenched to hide the trembling. He gripped the briefcase tighter than he probably needed to, hand hurting as nails bit into skin. Intense eyes roamed from the short heels up to dark gray legs, black pencil skirt, and a purple back. Her shoulders were hunched in their usual unsure posture and he wondered how long she had been standing like that. She didn't budge in her spot and it gave him unlimited time to admire her figure.

He should put her out of her misery, or perhaps increase it by announcing his presence. He honestly didn't know which would be worse for her, but she was here as she said...despite how nervous she already appeared. She said she was going to greet him and something inside was partially hoping she would. They had become so close so quickly and he was starting to rely on her more than he thought. If she had satiated whatever sexual curiosity was between them, it was highly likely she could be done with him.

But here she was. Dressed in another outfit he guessed was for his benefit.

He really was content to stare at her for most of the morning, yet found being so far away wouldn't do either. His palms were itching to see if they could fit around that petite waist and judging by how small it was, he bet he could. Blue eyes fixated on it and the more ample lower curves. His face warmed, lusty directions coming back from last night. The things he wanted her to do to herself that he quite enjoyed and had wanted to do instead. He harshly shook his head, hand coming up to straighten the strands which escaped their usual coif in order to give himself something to occupy his mind other than that.

Perhaps this whole situation might be worse on him than it would be for her. Work was going to be infuriating if he didn't shove that whole escapade back to his apartment where it belonged.

He took a few steps into the room, too quiet for her to hear, and paused again when a delectable smell met his nose. His eyes fell to the coffee cups and bag with the company logo she had purchased them from. His brows went up, heart warming and face accompanying it. She didn't need to keep buying him coffee, even if it was delicious and he appreciated it. He didn't have the heart to turn her away on such small things that really meant more than he thought. He stared at the gifts, lips tilting.

This was the third coffee she had gotten him because she wanted to. That notion enveloped his mind more than she probably intended it. She was trying to be nice, but she was actually pouring rust on the chains until they dissolved into nothing. Those chains were gone for only a few days and yet thinking about them felt as though they had been gone for months.

He paused at the table, soft eyes on the treats, the smell of blueberries making themselves known. He finally set the briefcase on the table as quietly as possible, although it still made enough noise to elicit a small shriek from her.

She whipped around at the noise, hand over her heart, eyes wide. Her glasses threatened to fly off her nose with as quick as she moved and a chunk of hair met her open mouth. She sputtered, hand coming to yank it from her lips, glare forming at the laugh, although it helped melt a chunk of the tension she battled since setting foot in the office. “I'm beginning to think that Umed was right and I should just get you a bell to use.”

Fingers covered his mouth as if it would keep his amusement inside, but it wasn't doing a proper job. “Forgive me Miss Young. I did attempt as silent as possible to not startle you.”

A finger shoved the glasses up her nose to where they had been seconds ago, heart thundering and needing something to do.

He was here and he looked great. The fact that he was in suspenders threw the dream smack in her face and it heated like the sun. She shuffled a step, berating herself for losing it at work. The whole time since she put her bag on the shelving was filled with mental coaching and ordering to be professional and friendly. She wasn't going to shy away from him or make things awkward!

He watched the conflict play out on averted features. She blinked a few times, eyes darting around the table separating them. He waited, telling himself to let her figure it out. She had done much better than openly freaking out like she had in previous meetings. She wasn't stuttering and her head hadn't exploded yet. He took those as positive steps and forced himself to silence, seeing she had something to say.

She looked him in the eye, seeing mirth and affection. It warmed her heart too quickly and she looked away again. Hands squeezed together and she dug deep for all of the strength that Marshall and so many others had piled on for her this morning. To the realization that even though she did something she would've died in embarrassment months ago, she was still standing in front of the person responsible and fully intended on working next to him.

Desensitize. It seemed to have worked its beginning job.

She took a deep breath, not caring if he heard, before purposefully placing her hands on the table to keep from fidgeting and looked him dead in the eye. “Good morning Charles. It's...good to see you.”

He smiled, liking the strong look in her eyes. “Good morning Miss Young. I hope you slept well last night?”

His hands and their job came back but she mentally slapped herself. “I did actually...kind of. B – better than I did a few days ago at least. It definitely wasn't midnight when I drifted off.”

“That's good.” His eye fell to the items decorating the table. “Might I inquire as to what you're going to do with these?”

She looked to them for a second, shy smile popping up as she met his eyes again. “I...well...I thought that maybe we could sit and chat for a few minutes. I didn't know if you liked them or had already eaten. It was kind of a spur of the moment thing.”

He watched her open the bag and pull out a hefty sized muffin. It looked quite enticing and he grinned. “Do I sense a bribe Miss Young?”

She pouted and set the breakfast item on a napkin so any oil didn't get all over the table. “No! It's more like...a payback.”

“Please don't consider last night in need of a return Miss Young. Payment of any form was never a requirement.”

“I don't mean it like that.” Fingers fiddled with the coffee lid, making sure not to burn herself. Her brow furrowed as she tried to find the right words. “I mean what I said last night. I just feel like I owe you so much and this morning, I realized how in your debt I am. I know it's just small food pieces, but I wanted to make up for all that you've given me.” She put the coffee cup down, frowning. “That still doesn't sound right. I can't really explain it very well. Sorry for sounding so muddled.”

He met her eyes, really wanting to take her in his arms at her pure consideration for him. Again, he found he couldn't say no to her and slowly pulled out the chair closest to him. “I find I am getting quite spoiled by your morning coffee delivery.” He sat down and looked up at her, then the baked good. “If you're not careful, I'll soon be chagrined to not find such things when I set foot in the office.”

She giggled a little and plopped in the chair, gently pushing the napkin and cup to his side. She took a drink of whatever it was she had ordered and found it good. She'd need to consider it again next time.

“Iechyd da. Thank you for breakfast Miss Young.”

She quickly took a bite of food, lest she want to attempt the pronunciation again and make a fool of herself. But, she thought of how fun it could be to have him teach her a few words in Welsh. Someday.

“Wow, these are really good!” She burst out around a bite of food.

“I agree. Exceptional baking skills. The owner is to be commended.”

“Yea, Dee's mom owns a bakery. She taught her everything and Dee sells a lot of the goods in the coffee shop.”

“Oh, the owner is a friend of yours?”

“We went to college together.”

He gave a hum, unable to say more around the food in his mouth.

He wanted to find out more. This was so pleasant and normal that he intentionally let the next few minutes bleed into each other. He ate slowly, letting her talk about things she only knew and share with him. It knit the bond tighter and he could almost see the odds and ends making up the fabric they wrapped around themselves from these shared experiences. He rather enjoyed it and was sad to find the muffin gone and his coffee half empty.

“I think I'll need to get some of those more often.” She mused, putting the used napkin in the bag. She held it open for him to copy and got up to toss the paper in the bin at the edge of her desk.

The spell was broken. He exhaled a little exasperation that time refused to stop for them and the day wouldn't pause. Clients and contracts were waiting and his usual workaholic tendencies demanded to be tended to.

Still, he couldn't make himself get out of her chair just yet.

She stopped in between her desk and him, heart much fuller than her stomach. She stared at him watching her and finally looked away with a smile. “Thanks for...doing this again Charles. For letting me have my way again.” Hands clasped together at her front, thumbs twiddling. “Even if it was for your sake. I feel like it was also for mine again.” Her brows furrowed together. “That sounds more selfish when I say it out loud.”

He stood and took one good stride to be in front of her. He met wide eyes, flushed face, and quiet expectation. A hand floated up and kept her eyes on him. “If you are selfish for doing something primarily for my benefit Samara, then I will let you go ahead and keep being selfish as much as you wish.”

She wanted him to kiss her. It was written all over her face. As much as he was willing to do so, the day was not and thus he released her and stepped away for his things on the table.

The coldness practically shoved itself in between them and almost yanked her to the floor in shock. She was hoping for something and was disappointed. She told herself it wasn't wise to have him touch her when the work day hadn't begun. She felt she had finally reached a good plateau and come to terms with a lot of the perverted stuff which always freaked her out. Giving in now wasn't a good idea. She mentally tried to pick herself back up as he faced her again and stopped.

He wanted to feel bad for stepping away and his conscious almost smashed him over the head for not giving her what she wanted after such a altruistic act toward him this morning. He could tell she was let down and he gave in to the urge before rethinking it again. “Thank you for breakfast Miss Young.” His face dipped for a brief second, smiling softly. “If you need me, I'll be in my office.”

She was stone until she heard the click of her door and then stumbled back to rest on the edge of her desk as dead legs finally gave out. She stared at the empty coffee holder across the way, her cup near it. The other was in his hands and it looked like nothing even occurred between them for the last few minutes. The only way she knew it hadn't been some fantasy or another office dream was the smell of blueberries in the air and the taste of coffee on her lips from the kiss.

Her face flamed and her body finally responded to the unconscious demands to look at his exit, but he was long gone. She sighed and looked to her computer, not feeling like doing any work. “It's Friday...it's Friday...” She repeated, striding right to the chair and sitting down. Her eyes hardened as she mentally ordered herself to work. She had her fun and now it was time to be productive. “Last day before relaxing and, if luck is with me, part of the weekend will be spent with Charles if he feels like it.”

Across the hallway, the other door clicked shut and a much smaller office presented itself. He looked to the desk needing his attention with a sigh, hand still on the knob. The cold metal warmed at his touch and he almost wanted to take up residence in her office at the table they just shared to get some work done. A room he spent so many hours in, previously having never been a problem, was now eating at his patience and he felt like an ill-tempered child.

He finally sat down in the chair, idly locking eyes with a painting and yet not seeing it. It was early and it was going to be a long day at the office. Dare he even think of using the word 'blase'? He couldn't believe how enjoyable it was to sit with her, eat snacks, and listen to her chat about her life. Now he was forced to do something he honestly didn't feel like doing this second. A hand cradled his chin as he stared at the closed laptop, hand finally moving to pull it open and click the power button.

A thought came to him as he watched the loading screen with the brand's logo. Once lunchtime came around, it always presented another hour of time with her to learn more of whatever she felt like giving to him. Another opportunity at her side. His lips twitched and with a sliver of resolve pushing him forward, he somehow managed to plow through as much as he could.

Easier said than done. The hours felt long and he forced himself from getting up to stretch in order to actually work. His productivity wasn't doing him any favors right now. It would've probably helped had he needed to be in the same room with her to discuss something, but nothing required to take him from his office.

Ten o'clock crawled in and he felt like he was going insane. The tug-o-war between doing his job and throwing it away to cross that hallway was intense. Ten-thirty seemed to take forever to meet his eyes and he decided he couldn't take it anymore. He stood and exited the room, needing a change of scenery and settled on getting some water at the drink cooler.

He found her laughing with Lucy at the front desk, a stack of papers on the counter the second he entered the hallway.

Her laughter was infectious and his feet almost derailed him her way, but he did need water. He emptied the first fill and carried the second over to Lucy's desk. The whole while he tried to keep his eyes on the water jug, but his ears were attuned to the voice though he couldn't pick words out. He just heard her and was more captivated than he should be.

Once done with the water and no other reason to stay outside, he headed back and his eyes locked on the pair who looked his way as he moved. His loafers shifted him before he could figure out what he was doing. “Miss Young, a moment of your time please.”

She looked from him to Lucy and the papers before snatching them up and followed as he wordlessly headed to her office. “Charles, is something wrong? Did you need me for something?”

He waited until she passed him into her office before closing the door. The morning was still with him and he stared at the table, the corner of his vision tracking her walk to her desk chair.

“If you would please indulge me Miss Young, are you free for lunch today? My treat; your pick.”

“You don't need to pay me back for breakfast Charles. I wanted to do that.”

His head shook. “Think nothing of this as spoiling me with your presence again Miss Young.”

She smiled, face warming. Teeth bit her lip, head already full of places they could go to and yet wondering what sounded best. The spot she went with Monica a few days ago sprang to mind, but she would need to do a little research to see if there was another chain location closer to the office. “I think I've got just the place for you to try. I think you'll find it interesting and the food is great.”

He smiled, soaking up her slight enthusiasm to push him into the next hour faster. “Then I shall be back at noon and we'll head out. Have an address and directions ready for me please.”

He waited until she nodded and crossed the office again, feeling a little better at sitting in his seat and going through his chain of emails. He was actually engrossed to the point he didn't notice the time until she poked her head into his office.

“Charles? It's already noon...”

He quickly looked from her to the laptop clock and promptly stood. “My apologies on being tardy Miss Young. Give me a moment and we'll head out. Do you have everything you need?”

She shouldered the bag and held the strap out for him to see as he rounded the desk. “All ready.”

The walk to the car was mostly in silence, but he could tell how relaxed he was at hearing her heels clack beside him. It ironed out the frayed nerves that were upset at his initial exit from her room more than he thought. It was slightly upsetting that simply standing next to her like this in the elevator down, still not saying anything, had him so comforted. He was unsure about where this latest development was putting him; not happy that he was wrapping his arms around it so tightly to keep it with him.

He followed the directions as she read them off her phone, brow going up at a single, small building amidst a strip mall that looked like a fast food joint. He looked to her as she undid her seatbelt and slowly copied her. “Are you sure you want to pick here Miss Young?”

She beamed his way before opening the door. “Trust me. You'll love it! I've never eaten in such a setup before and there's so much food!”

His curiosity was burning by how well she was selling it merely with how excited she was. He drifted behind her, walking around only to get the door and hold it for her.

The line wouldn't let them go any further and he had to squish next to her in order to not keep it open for however long till they could get inside.

“Wow! This place is really busy!” She exclaimed, flushing a little at how near he was. She couldn't move out of the way as the line was already fairly squished into the interior door that someone else was keeping out of the way while they also waited in line. “I guess noon is a bad time to show up.”

The smells wafted over and only increased as they got to the inner door. He held it open for her, only letting go when they got too inside for him to do so anymore. He took in the hustle behind the counter and the number of employees, the tall ceiling, lots of windows, and general setup people were ordering from. He glanced up at the basic list of items, not seeing anything too specific that jumped out at him.

She grabbed a take-a-way menu off the wall and handed it over for him to browse as she mentally picked out what she wanted to try this time. Her stomach had been growling for the last few minutes in line with the smells just as good as Charles's cologne. Well, maybe a close second.

He didn't have time to pick out what he wanted, so he watched what she got until he was addressed for his order and mostly copied the bowl she selected. It was strange to make and yet not make the items for the food he was going to eat. They quickly got through the line, although it was only a few feet long anyway, and he found out how a dozen people were shuffled through so quickly. He handed over his card as she went to grasp the tray. His free hand lightly caught a wrist, the other taking his card back. “I will manage Miss Young. Please go get us a seat. It looks rather full in here.”

She quickly gave up, knowing he wasn't going to budge and people were still filling up the spaces behind them. She turned and let him grab the metal tray, finding no tables and only bar stool sections to sit at. She honestly didn't think she could get up there in the skirt she had on so she kept going and found the outside patio mostly empty. Probably because the air conditioning was going and it was full sun outside.

She held the door since he had his hands full and helped empty the tray. She sat down as he took it to a nearby stand holding trash and other metal trays for employees to sanitize later, then joined her.

He took in the pile of food he needed to stir together. He grabbed the plastic spoon she set on a napkin for him and slowly started doing so nothing fell over. “You were correct on the portion size Miss Young. It also smells good.”

She beamed and looked to her own small mountain that she had mixed. “I didn't even know such a place existed. I'm glad Monica and I met at a different branch location. It's so good!” She quickly stuffed a large bite in her mouth and gave a hum of appreciation before going back for more.

He followed suit, brows going up at the complex amount of flavors. For a bunch of ingredients being layered together, it meshed well and he found it highly enjoyable.

“How is yours?”

He finished the bite and found her opening her glass soda bottle. “Delicious. Thank you for the recommendation.”

He wanted to make more small talk, but they had probably already used almost half of their hour lunch in the drive and the wait in line. He didn't want her food to go cold, but it had been so pleasant to listen to her talk about her life as they sat and had coffee that he wished it would continue.

“Do you have plans after work is done Samara?”

She paused, mentally cringing that he wanted to spend time tonight. Tonight of all days in the whole week! She sat back chagrined, spoon going back to the half-empty bowl. “I'm sorry Charles...I do. It's Friday after all...”

Memory served him well and he recalled at their last dinner what those nights more or less entailed. “Think nothing of it Samara, I was merely curious. I find I quite enjoyed listening to you talk about your life at breakfast.”

She smiled, obliging a little by talking just about her guild instead of the game. She felt that would be less embarrassing and there were times she almost forgot about the food in front of her for the company across the table. He seemed delighted by whatever she wanted to say and she kept edging more about the game and how long it ran as they dumped their empty containers in the trash and headed back to the car.

“I play a mage. I'm not confident enough to play a tank and make sure I don't let my aggro go too low. I mean, Dallas gives everyone enough trouble by kiting everything he's in range of; I don't think I could handle it any better than Angela does. I'd probably shield bash him into a raid boss like she has a few times. I also don't think I could handle the stress of healing. I don't know how Olivia does it. Her rotations are on all the time and she never lets anyone get in the red it feels like. I don't even need to mention it before her bot download probably warns her.”

He really had no idea what she was talking about, but she was so animated that he had no heart to butt in and tell her most of her terminology was beyond him. He remembered last Friday when he asked if she had somewhere to be and she curiously switched words from something to a party. He was confused at the time, but shrugged it off. It was adorable that, after having played Ruminate, she was still worried about his opinion of her gaming hobbies. Not after she so adamantly went into how she was creating her phone app game.

He also had his puzzles, as he mentioned not long ago at another lunch. He wondered how she would do in an escape room as she saw so many fine details in things from her job and utilizing the skill in her games. It would be an interesting concept to take her and see how she fared, but that was a thought for another day.

He let her step off the elevator first to the door and bid her a good rest of the work day, heading into his room with a little firmer resolve than this morning. The day was half over and there were really only a few more hours until he checked to see if she wanted a ride home so she could get ready for her game. Going out and spending another hour together filled whatever reservoir that had suddenly formed over the last few days. He sat at his chair and opened the laptop, propping his chin up as he waited for it to warm up again.

He was unaware when such a need started building, but he was unsure as to letting it continue. He was already unable to do his job and it had only been a few measly hours. He didn't think giving in to such a thing and letting it become nestled in his life more than it had already was a good thing, but to throw it away sounded just as distasteful.

He gave a small sigh and sat forward. The day was almost over and he would continue such things at home once the day was finished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Using Chipotle again. That store has my stomach in its clutches. Om nom. www.chipotle.com


	18. aching for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He gave in and poured himself a little more, though his heart was already warm enough from her words. She had the power to turn him upside down with her honesty, but she probably didn't know what it really did to him. A hand scrubbed his face before he went and tipped the glass back against his lips. The burning made his throat ache, but not in the way his arms did for her in that second.

She was finishing up an email when there was a quiet knock on the door. “Yes?” She already knew who it was though and started closing down programs on both computers.

His head poked through, eyes on her systems. “Can I interest you in a ride home Miss Young?”

She grinned and sat back, arms on the chair rests. “I'm going to forget what public transportation looks like if I keep giving in to you Charles.”

He chuckled and stepped in, setting his briefcase on her desk in wait as she closed the laptop screen and grabbed her things. “I am more than okay with that Miss Young. I am leery of having you ride the bus in...such garments...”

She looked to him at those words, face heating to find his eyes roaming and not trying to hide it. Teeth bit her lip, grin forming. “Ah...” She kept the bag on a shoulder instead of draping it over her torso like usual. “Y – you...never did...say anything about my clothes this morning...”

A brow went up. How had he forgotten such an important detail? But, he did note that most of his looking took place with her back facing him. Now, he was given the other side and he could see just how well she...filled out the whole thing.

“ _Take your hands and cover your breasts.”_

He wanted to shake the succeeding noises out of his ears, even as his face heated up a degree. He cleared his throat, watching as she rounded the desk to face him. “It's...nice Miss Young.”

Her face fell a little. She figured he'd have more to say about something that was very similar to the t-shirt and pencil skirt she wore for him the other day. The one he kissed her hand over with that hungry look in his eyes. The one that led him to kissing her for the first time. Maybe she over-thought that he would like it, even though he seemed happy by the other outfits.

'He doesn't have to like everything. Don't be let down if he doesn't. You made big progress today. Be proud of that.'

“W – we...should go...” She mumbled, head down a little as she started past him. She didn't even manage to get her hand on the doorknob before he tugged her arm to stop. She looked his way in confusion. “Charles?”

She was an open book and he could always tell when she was lying, when something was bothering her, or when she had something she wanted to say but was scared to do so. He stared at how downtrodden she became right after he spoke. “Is there a problem Miss Young?”

She looked down. “No...it's fine...”

“You're lying Samara. What's bothering you?”

Teeth bit her lip as she remained in his hold and his hand was warm on her arm. Her lips pursed together as she tried to make it sound better than it went in her head, but nothing came out well enough. “I guess... I thought you might like it more than just 'nice'. Sorry...I overreacted. L – let's just head out.”

He turned her before he could think. She stood before him looking up in uncertainty, but met his eyes as she usually did when she was unsure on speaking, but found the topic important.

His eyes roamed her clothes, giving her a very thorough once over as she watched him. A hand floated up and captured her chin. He neared her face, giving in to the sensations she inspired in him. “A better word would perhaps be 'dangerous'.” His lips curled a little as he watched her face redden and eyes widen in anticipation. “Tantalizing. Irresistible. I'm glad that you're starting to see yourself through my eyes Bunty because soon you'll see just what you put me through when you wear such garments in front of me.”

Her heart was racing and she wondered if he could hear it with as loud as it was beating in her ears.

“ _Touch yourself Samara. I want to hear you cry out when you do.”_

Her inner thighs started becoming achingly uncomfortable. She found she couldn't look away from the storms building in his eyes and changed the look to one she wished to have seen personally last night. “O...oh? P – perhaps...you could...g – give me a hint then...” She stumbled, eying his lips.

He smiled. The tease was attractive and he found he couldn't say no.

His mouth met hers in a second and he towered over her. She gripped the suspenders like a vice to hold against the tide he threw at her. His hand was in her hair, in the partial ponytail she put it in like her dream. She touched his tongue, giving in to a few breathy moans that transferred to his mouth. She leaned against him, wanting to let him touch her as he ordered last night. The office sex dream went through her head and she found she wanted him to do those things to her, damned be the location.

She was getting far too excited for such a kiss and she was rubbing her chest against his just enough for him to notice. It was killing his patience and his other arm came out around her back to trap her against him, keeping her from doing so and yet not doing himself any further favors. All of the noises she made last night ran through his head and he wanted to hear them again. He wanted to keep kissing her and feeling her hands tremble against his chest.

He exhaled a shaky breath when they suddenly slid up his shirt.

She managed to find his shoulders, holding on for dear life. He was so strong and she could feel the muscles in his arms clenched as he held her tightly against him. It made her veins buzz and she wanted more. She wanted to throw herself back into last night and the dream this morning. If she had the want to pull away, she would've mentioned such a things to him. She wanted him to touch her instead of ordering her to do it herself. She wanted to see just what he was capable of and how knowledgeable he was.

There was nothing to stop him, to stop her. No phones to buzz, no secretary to knock on the door. She was very pliable against him, her mouth egging him on. He could feel himself become physically affected and with a mental cry of anguish from all emotions pushing him at her, he suddenly pulled away.

She felt like she had at almost every orgasm and in need of her inhaler. Heaven had been ripped away from her and she was confused after letting herself go and getting lost in every scintillating emotion that covered her. Her veins were still buzzing as she tried to catch her breath, looking around until she was aware of where she was and locked eyes with his.

He felt bad at the dejected look in her face. A look that she had given him not too long ago when she had misunderstood his pulling away that first time in her office. A hand went to her shoulder, his chin on her head. “Forgive me Samara. I got too carried away. I need a second to compose myself before we step from the office lest I face the ramifications of this.”

She blinked and felt him shuffle a step, hearing his deep breaths. She snuck a peek down and her eyes widened before her face burned up.

'What were you expecting?! If you were a guy, you'd probably have the same reaction with how you feel right now! Cut him some slack and back off.'

She shuffled from his light hold, face down and hand nervously clutching the bag strap to take her mind off her own inner turmoil. “I'm so s – sorry Charles! I didn't mean to...p – put you in that position!”

He would've turned around to keep her head from exploding, but she refused to look his way anyway and he smoothed his shirt to take his mind off of the receding erection he still wasn't able to do anything with. “No need for an apology. You did ask me to show you things that I felt and I obliged. Perhaps the location was again incorrect for this.”

She turned for the door but didn't open it, biting her nail harshly. “I don't know why I always get myself into these situations in my office...” She mumbled.

He chuckled, the change in mood helping his body to return to before he had stepped into the room. “Such instances seem to occur here, don't they?” He grabbed the briefcase off her desk and put a hand on her shoulder. He smiled when she jumped and whirled his way. “I'm alright now. If you would get the door, I'll take you home.”

She tried not to hurry out as fast as she felt she was doing. She didn't know why she was scurrying away from Charles when she really wanted him to continue. Getting lost in her emotions like that was a very dangerous thing. She was about ready to let him have his way with her in whatever manner he saw fit, whether co-workers were in the office or not.

Her face could've melted off at that thought. It was hard enough to allow these thoughts not to take over her life, but to get caught in the act would make her quit her job immediately and she didn't even want to try and explain that to her father.

She groaned at that thought, cringing behind the hands covering her face.

He waited until they had exited the elevator and were paces away from the small group before daring to ask what went through her mind at the outburst. “Is everything alright Samara?”

She sighed and accepted his help into the car with the skirt she couldn't wait to toss into the laundry for comfy pajamas. She put on the seatbelt and waited for him to get in the car before answering him. “I just realized how idiotic I almost was.”

He looked at her with a raised brow, hand turning the ignition. “How so?”

“What if someone knocked on the door? Or opened it?! Lucy almost caught us hugging; I would die if anyone else found me k – kissing you in my office!”

He grinned at the mental image and backed the car out of its parking spot. “They would perhaps be more mortified than us I imagine.”

“No way! I'd d – die if anyone caught me!”

He spared her a second glance as they waited behind another car attempting to get into traffic. “With all due respect Samara, I think our fellow employees are more privy to our budding relationship than you think.”

Her face flamed as she wondered just how open she had been when she never discussed Charles with anyone at work. Teeth gnawed on a nail as she wondered what she had done lately aside dress differently to announce to the world that she was sexually interested her boss.

She groaned at how that sounded and bonked her head on the seat rest.

“Do I wish to know what's going through your head right now?”

She glared at the mirth in his voice, scowling as the only backlash she could give while he was driving. Attempting to make him crash when she was drunk was her only time she would ever do such a stunt. “I keep making it worse if you want to know...”

“You'll need to enlighten me as I'm not seeing it.”

She huffed and chewed on a nail to gather her thoughts, but it was gently pulled from her mouth. Her face whipped over, though his was still on the road ahead. Her face warmed as he let go and put his hand on the wheel again. Her heart thudded a little harder at the gesture.

“If you're not careful Bunty, you'll break skin doing that. Is it a habit you accumulated from anxiety at a situation?”

She looked to her hand, seeing bite marks and realized she was overdoing it by how red the skin was. “Ah... I guess?” She sighed and looked out the passenger window. “I just feel like an idiot because you said before not to do anything in the office because someone might find us in the middle of it. Yet what do I do but dress in a way that's going to make you want to do those things...and myself as well.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I guess I just don't listen sometimes.”

He was thankful he was driving slow enough that the light ahead turned yellow and allowed him to stop. He quickly turned and put a hand on her shoulder to gain her attention, eyes drifting down for a second. He didn't care if she saw. “I asked weeks ago for you to dress more professionally for clientele and you have done just that. While I sincerely appreciate your efforts, you shouldn't worry about me. Dressing for my benefit has been for both of our sakes, but it should always be for yours first and foremost.”

“But...I like dressing like this for you...” She meekly responded, legs fidgeting a little.

He let go of her shoulder and put it back on the wheel as the light changed. “And I'm very flattered by the notion Bunty. I have taken great enjoyment at your outfits, perhaps too much at times that I forget where I'm at. As I said last night, you're an amazing woman and inspiring. I will admit that it's hard to say no to you to anything that you wish to do together.”

Her shoulders hunched to her ears, smile on her face. She wanted to say something back, but she was reveling in his words too much to be able to think of anything.

She waited until he slowed behind a car, barely able to do the required speed due to traffic, in order to grab a hand and kiss the back of it.

He was taken aback and looked at her quickly before jerking his gaze back to what was keeping him from moving ahead. “Samara? What -”

“Thank you Charles.” She placed his palm against her face, eyes on him. “Why is it that I never get to give you a great big hug whenever I really want to?”

He gently tugged his hand back and she let go. His face felt warm and he cleared his throat for composure, even though the smile wouldn't leave his face. “Such occurrences do seem to crop up more and more. I would perhaps join you in your apartment for that hug you wished to give me last night, but I already know the answer.”

The raid. She sighed, feeling the good cloud surrounding the car dissipate at the fact that he was merely driving her home and she had a raid which would take up her whole night from him. “Yea...” She mumbled. “I'm sorry. It sounds like such a good idea too.”

He spared a glance her way, the complex finally coming into view. “I still could join you.”

“No!” She burst out, getting laughter. She went beet red in awkwardness at him sitting on her couch and watching her yell at the raid boss, or wondering what he would do if he felt she needed to step away and take a break. She looked to the building she lived in until a finger under her chin made her jump.

He reigned in his amusement at how perturbed she was. He left one hand on the wheel as he leaned over and brushed his lips against hers. “Perhaps you will indulge me later tonight once your game is over with a phone conversation? On any topic you wish.”

She couldn't think. Her heart was already beating so fast. It was on the edge of her lips to tell him to come inside and she could tell him about that dream she had with him last night...maybe see if he'd be okay reenacting it... She already had the outfit on after all.

She jerked away, shaking her head to clear it. She had to maintain control against him or she was never going to think of anything else in the day with him so near! “I d – don't know...just when I could...the r – raids always run l – late...and sometimes we play till m – midnight...” She met his eyes, finding them soft and his smile kind. She felt it hard to say no to him as well. “B...but...we do take breaks in between bosses... I could m – maybe...if you're not asleep th – that is...”

“I'll make sure to have my phone on. Call or text whenever you wish. Enjoy your game Samara. Good luck on winning.”

It was hard to get out of the car quickly and she used those extra seconds to stay with him in any way she could. She was so torn on wanting to spend time with him, but unable to let him breach this side of her life just yet. There would be nothing for him to do anyway and he would be so bored when she wouldn't be able to spend time with him. She needed her hands for the keyboard and mouse, her ears for her headset, and her eyes on the screen at all times. If he decided to tease her just for his amusement, she knew she'd end up scolding him for getting yelled at on making the raid wipe on a boss.

She leaned into the car, forgetting the shirt revealed a little cleavage and watched his eyes shift. “Charles...I...I'll text you. I don't know if I can call, but I will talk to you later.”

“I'll anticipate so then. Have a good evening Bunty.”

She stepped back and shut the door. The second he pulled away and couldn't see her on the corner anymore, the solitude and silence threatened to suffocate him. All of the light and laughter he experienced within that short ride wasn't long enough to get him through the night. A night by himself in his big penthouse. Nothing to do, no one else to share it with.

The thought had him driving a few miles under the speed limit and taking a few extra, unnecessary turns that made him backtrack a few blocks in order to keep him out of it as long as possible. Traffic thinned out the closer he got to his place, many others reaching theirs with a fervor to get home and enjoy their Friday night or get ready to go out and enjoy it with someone else.

He was neither of those people.

Usually going home was a place of respite and quiet. It was a way to be in his place and enjoy a relaxing drink or two. That final thought sounded like a welcome option, although it wasn't for the company so much as it was for dulling the long wait that she would put him through until relieving his dreary evening with her company.

He scoffed at his own thoughts, shaking his head as he shut the car door.

He heaved a sigh, looking at the way to the elevator and not feeling like hurrying over to it. He shook his head at his hesitancy, grabbing his briefcase before heading over. It was asinine to think that, just because the light had left the horizon his heart was meandering in, the darkness which followed should be any less unpleasant. He had spent years in the fortress he had created, a roomy prison with green grass to walk over and touch whenever it decided to do so. Just because he had nothing pressing to do as she did was no reason to sulk.

The click on his apartment door sounded like a gunshot in the quiet.

He stared from the entryway to the evening sunset against the wall of windows. The silence was deafening; no running appliances, no water dripping in the sink, no bugs from outside making noises. It was like a very roomy, avant garde coffin he had put himself in. His loafers clacked over the short hallway and he stopped at the kitchen area.

“ _The coffee is hot Samara. I would not forgive myself for burning you unnecessarily so. Now...would you prefer anything extra in it?”_

He left the kitchen for the stairs, unable to just leave his things anywhere and went to his room to put the briefcase away and change. He put the work attire in the hamper and grabbed a shirt and pair of jeans. He gave his tired eyes a break and went for the glasses, hand running through his hair to release himself from the business look he always had on. He was in the midst of moving a strand from his eyes and looked to his bed.

“ _Charles, you really d – don't have to make me b – breakfast! It's okay! I p - probably already put you out enough as it is!”_

He tsksed and headed downstairs. This was going to be a long evening if nothing but memories of her haunted every spot he happened to pass through. He headed to the living room and turned the television on, going for a classical music channel on his cable. 'Consolation E-Major' soon flooded the speakers and soothed his nerves a little. He listened to it for a moment before heading to his cupboards, finding a low ball glass and glass jar of brandy. He poured less than half, knowing that was plenty for the entire evening. He swirled it in the cup slowly as he walked to the patio doors and opened one, leaning on the doorway.

The first sip burned his throat and he coughed a little against the strength of the liquor. The second and third helped dull the approaching night and he left the patio door open so the music could leave and join him on the couch. He sat back on the chairs, eyes on the stars peeking out, feeling a little better at the numbness to his consciousness.

At least until 'Gymnopedies' came on.

It was a gorgeous, slow piano piece that could be construed many different ways. If one was sad, the song could be depressing. If one was with another in an intimate setting, the song was romantic. It could be wistful or beautiful.

In these moments, it only brought back the fact that he was again by himself and waiting on her to call. It wasn't the first time he had roused his agitation into such a stupor over her.

“ _This is amazing! Your apartment is very interesting.”_

He took a larger drink than normal as that morning of coffee on the deck came back. The conversation that threw the theoretical doors wide open for her to walk through with everything she possessed...everything she granted him. Lavished on him. Tantalized him. Made him long for more. Whether she knew she was doing it or not.

A hand ran through his hair. He couldn't be this pathetic over just one woman! He already had gone on that rollercoaster and was done with it. He was done with longing to be near someone who may or may not want him in return. Even though Samara made every advance that could easily be misconstrued, she was unaware of how she wanted him in her life. She even made mention of that last night; also at the restaurant. There was no point in yearning for someone who didn't truly want him the same way he wanted them.

And yet, he still sat here with her fully on his mind.

He sighed yet again, taking another drink and finding it almost empty. His brows rose and he worried that having any more wouldn't be a good idea. He didn't know what time it was as there was no clock on the patio, and the evening sky wasn't a good indicator to the evening. His free hand reached into his pocket for the phone.

Before he could turn on the open screen, it vibrated in his hand.

A sense of anticipation speared him like he tried to keep from doing so as her name flashed over his screen.

_Hi Charles. We're on a break. How is your evening going?_

He grabbed the empty glass and went inside, leaving it on the counter as a refill sounded better than he previously thought.

_Quite dreary I'll admit. Are you winning?_

He felt it was fine to be honest. She wanted to know and there was no sense in lying about how dull it was by himself with no one to talk to and only the traffic below to keep him company.

_Yea. We managed to get past phase one okay. Abe always lets everyone get up and stretch their legs about halfway through so we don't fall asleep in our chairs._

Halfway? He spied the clock just past nine. He wondered just when they started everything.

_I'm sorry your evening is going so poorly. I really wished I could've spent it with you. Even if we just talked._

He gave the phone a soft look, heart warming. Maybe that refill wouldn't be so necessary after all.

_Thank you for the offer Samara. But you had previous engagements that didn't include me and it sounds like you'd let a lot of people down. I would hate for them to be cross with you on my account._

There was a moment's pause and he stared at his phone for the response and his brows rose when it finally showed up.

_I know the guild would be upset if I didn't show up, but they'd understand if I told them I wanted to spend tonight with you. Vikki and Angela already know something about our situation and they support it. You're no less special to me than they are. If today had happened yesterday, I would've contacted Abe and told him I wouldn't be able to make it and they would've rescheduled or found a random DPS'er for my absence. I really was torn on getting out of your car earlier._

That drink was sounding better by the second.

He gave in and poured himself a little more, though his heart was already warm enough from her words. She had the power to turn him upside down with her honesty, but she probably didn't know what it really did to him. A hand scrubbed his face before he went and tipped the glass back against his lips. The burning made his throat ache, but not in the way his arms did for her in that second.

_I'm sorry. Was that too much again?_

He looked to the phone, wishing to pull her from it and kiss her silly right now. He couldn't look away from her words. A question roamed his head and he faltered on it, knowing she was busy and yet unable to keep himself away from such an attractive, warm flame.

_May I call you? Is now okay?_

There was a pause and he didn't know he was holding his breath until he let it out at her 'okay'.

She picked it up on the first ring, heart thundering in her chest. “Charles?”

“Thank you Samara. I know you're busy.”

She smiled and stared at the screen, game on and the other members chatting in the log in the corner. “Not for another minute or two. A few people are still AFK.”

“Is it impossible to leave me on speakerphone while you play your second half?”

Teeth bit her lip as she stared at her guild move around the screen. Dallas had his character dancing while Edgar was taking care of some loose NPCs with Olivia healing for him. She felt like she wouldn't be able to concentrate in knowing he was listening to everything she did. All the annoyances she yelled at the screen. All of the jokes she laughed at which were in her headset that he wouldn't be able to hear.

“ _If you are selfish for doing something primarily for my benefit Samara, then I will let you go ahead and keep being selfish as much as you wish.”_

He wanted to spend time with her and she honestly did too. She was just abashed at what it would sound like over the phone when he couldn't see what was going on. But, he had yet to be appalled at anything she had done so far. No matter how dorky or discomfiting it appeared to her. She really didn't give him enough credit.

“W...well...it'll be hard without a visual reference... But if you're okay with it...I am too.”

“Thank you for obliging me Bunty.”

The nickname had her smiling and stifling a giggle. “No...it's fine. I'm just not too sure how I'll appear over the phone is all. I...I'm too embarrassed at you seeing me in p – pajamas with a headset on sitting on my butt for hours in front of a screen.”

“For the most part Samara, you just described yourself at the office.”

Sitting in front of a screen, sometimes with multiple screens up, as she worked on programs and contracts. Comfy pajamas akin to the old, baggy clothes she used to wear. She laughed a little, attempting to sweep a chunk of hair behind her ear, but unable with the headset over her ear. “Ah...ha ha... Yea...I guess I did.”

“There is no need for discomfort in my presence Samara. I am still your friend, however close I am to you over these last few days.”

She wanted to reach out and touch the phone, but she couldn't get to him through it. Maybe he should have stayed, even if he was in his office clothes and she didn't know what he liked for food. She had half a mind to tell him he could still come over, but her headphone drew her attention. She quickly clicked pulled the mic back in front of her mouth. “Ah! Ariadne ready!”

“Samara?”

Her eyes darted to the table her phone was on and moved the mic piece out of the way for a second. “Sorry Charles...ready check. Looks like we're back in the game again. Literally.”

He chuckled. “Don't mind me Samara. Consider me just a fly on the wall.”

That was easier said than done. Although he was so quiet that she wondered if he had muted his side of the call, she couldn't fully concentrate with him listening in. She had allowed such a thing to happen, and while he couldn't see anything, she was more nervous than if he was actually in the room. She felt like she was ignoring him every time her fingers pressed buttons for spells and she spoke to those on the other side of the screen more than him.

She cringed as she missed spell rotation enough to cause a drop in her damage that the guild started struggling and eventually wiped on the boss.

She heaved a sigh, head in her hands as she listened to Dallas yell on the other side. “I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!” She responded, trying not to glare at the screen. “I'll farm materials and sell potions on the auction house if you seriously need gold that bad to repair your gear.”

“Dallas doesn't need that Sam. He'll be just fine.” Abe responded before Dallas could.

_Is there something wrong Sam? You were doing just fine up until now._

She looked to the whisper in the chat screen. Her fingers found the keyboard as she tried to ignore Abe getting everyone pepped back up to rock the boss again.

_I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make everyone wipe. It's just that my boss is on the speakerphone and I'm really nervous._

_Do you need to go? We can always find a random DPS if you want._

_No. It's not business related. He's just on the phone. He wanted to spend time at my place while I played, but I'm too mortified to have him actually here. I gave in to letting him listen in though._

_Is this the one you told us about?_

_Yea. The last few days have been a real doozy too, but I'm not going to give up when we're almost halfway done!_

The boss fight started back up and she tried to coach herself as quietly as possible, hands moving too much to be able to mute herself on the phone even for a moment so he didn't hear. Although that was the whole reason he was on the other end in the first place. She listened to Abe's commands on the timing, trying to ignore Charles as best as possible. 'Fly on the wall, fly on the wall...'

He listened to a sudden, anguished cry on the other side, lips tilting around the glass as he listened to her apologize and explain how she wasn't intentionally trying to make them lose. Even on the phone she was animated and it made him smile. He could only imagine from her previous description what she was doing at a desk he had seen once.

It was amazing how much she could still do when she wasn't there, wasn't speaking directly to him, and wasn't even doing remotely the same thing as him. All she had to do was give him the shadow of her life and he was happy. Even though he was merely sitting in his chair, feet in the ottoman, the tv off when she decided to let him intrude. The nearby lamp was the only light keeping him company.

It was past eleven when she slumped over her keyboard, adrenaline letting itself rundown as the others cheered in her ears. “It's about damned time...” She grumbled.

A chuckle on the other side had her jolting upright in her chair.

“Charles?!” She had completely forgotten him in the thick of the final boss!

“Are congratulations in order Samara?”

She heaved a sigh, propping up a tired head in her hand. “Finally. I certainly didn't do much to help for about half a hour there though.”

He smiled, twirling the empty glass in his fingers. “Mistakes happen. There is nothing to worry about now that it sounds like you've won.”

He made it sound so simple and it scrubbed away her anxiety at what she put the guild through by multiple wipes. “For this week yea.”

He stood and put the glass in the sink. The city lights beckoned him outside and he gave in, the phone in his hand. “How about tomorrow?”

“We usually farm...erg...collect materials for potions and items to equip our characters in between Fridays. Since almost everyone works, we only do raids on Friday nights when nearly all of us don't have to work the next day.”

“Excellent. Does that mean your tomorrow might be open?”

She immediately put her character into AFK status and tossed the headphones on the keyboard. They clacked loudly as she grabbed the phone and took it off speaker, heading for the other side of the living room. “Y – yes...it can be...” She stammered, pacing. “I usually d – don't...do much on the weekends.”

“How does tomorrow for brunch and a trip out around town sound? I do believe we're due for a dinner out. We can always adjust the type so that you get some sleep after this.”

Her face was hot, heart speeding up. “That...sounds nice.” She shyly answered.

“Shall I pick you up around nine or nine-thirty?”

“Nine would be...great.”

“I will knock at nine sharp. Have a good sleep and I will see you tomorrow Samara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love making Charles suffer. XD


	19. a rooftop breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He swept her up in his arms the second the word left her lips. He listened to her sigh and lean into him a little, hands lightly gripping his shirt. His chin went to the top of her head, merely holding her in silence for as long as she wanted. He wished to know what had transpired in the moments they were apart, but held himself back at the sniffle. His first priority, as it would always be, was her comfort and emotional security.

Eight o'clock rolled around and the buzzer went off. It was smacked quiet before it could ring a second time. The blankets were thrown aside, a yelp of surprise coming a second later.

“I'm so sorry Bowser! I'm just so nervous and excited. Let me get you out of there.” She quickly yanked the blankets from his head and hugged him. “I'll throw something on real quick and take you out.” She let him hop to the floor and paused, hands going for the buttons. “Hmm...but maybe I should shower first. There's no point in dirtying two sets of clothes. What do I even want to wear?”

A hand threw the top on her bed, thumbs going for the waistband. Nails scratched her skin and she quickly paused, face heating up and the telltale sign of that delicious high buzzing her veins. Her mind abruptly derailed to Charles's hands taking the pants off and teeth bit her lip. 'Maybe nothing too...extreme. I don't want to give him a hard time wherever we're going. Myself either.'

Deciding on a quick shower, hair soon drying in a towel as she went through her closet, she yanked hangers around with no success. Nothing sounded good. Not too racy, yet fun. She didn't know where they were going, but she didn't want to be a party pooper by wearing an extra large outfit like she used to.

She was going to need to find time to clean out her closet soon. 'Hmm...maybe Monica can help me with that too. If she doesn't feel like I'm taking up too much of her time that is...'

Her hand snagged on a light purple dress and she pulled it from the confines, twirling it a few times to eye it. It wasn't the tightest piece she had worn yet, but there was a belt suspended through a few hoops stitched into the dress to help with that the bagginess. The collar didn't show off anything unnecessary for a day trip, and the skirt seemed long enough to reach her knees. It was short-sleeved, although the belt was holding onto some bracelets that matched the buckle color.

Another mom special apparently.

“Just how many pieces did she buy me? I guess this closet needs a good going through...”

She held it against her in front of the mirror, not convinced it was the best outfit she could rummage for even though it looked comfy. But, she didn't want to be too flashy and cause him problems in public. Work yesterday was bad enough and she really didn't think about how it would affect him. She was going to have to somehow work on that.

It was going to be hard though. She was getting addicted to his praises, his eyes roaming every inch of her front and back, and the fact that it drew him close. She liked his gratitude for doing something for his benefit, which was also for her benefit. She didn't want to go back to how she dressed before, but she needed to work on properly tempting him.

“That's going to be a hard one to figure out.” She mumbled. She pulled the bracelets from the belt and tossed them on the bed. The dress was a little stretchy which was good because it had no zipper. She adjusted it and her hair before finishing it off with the accessories and a pair of basic flats. No cursed heels if they were going to be walking around! There was no way she was going to ruin this day by having Charles take her back home prematurely because her feet hurt.

As nice as that would spiral into...other things...

Her head shook and palms slapped her cheeks. “Focus you!” She berated to her reflection. She twirled in the mirror, breaking out into a smile as 'pretty' roamed her head. “I hope he still likes it...”

There was a bark and she jumped.

“Yes! Oh my god, I'm so sorry Bowser! Please don't pee on the carpet; I swear I'm hurrying!” She left her hair loose and hurried for his leash. She clipped it and was pulled all the way down the outside hall for the stairs. “Geez, heel already! Don't make me fall down these stairs before I even get a chance to say good morning to Charles!”

The day was absolutely perfect. Crisp air, blue skies, clear horizon. She inhaled appreciatively, feeling light and anxiously awaiting the remaining half an hour. She almost wanted to stop by The Daily Grind and have a coffee awaiting him when he got there, but they were supposed to go out for food first and she could always order a coffee then. Not that she really needed caffeine right now anyway...

She fought off the urge to buy him another drink. She had lost track of how many days it had been now that she had done so, but she didn't mind. After all he had given her, it was such a small payback really. She would have to buy him coffee for weeks in order to pay for that single dinner alone, to say nothing of all the time he spent with her exercises, the kind words, the days like today, and the...physical lessons.

She quickly grabbed her phone out of a pocket in the dress and eeped at the time. “Bowser! We've got to go right now! Come on!” She all but yanked his leash, giving in and holding him on the way back. “I know you like to smell every blade of grass on the way back, but I've got to finish things up and I don't want to be a sweaty mess and change again!”

She ended up grabbing her inhaler out of the other pocket and took a quick puff, trying to not fall over with Bowser pulling her hand off her knees she was using for stability. 'Ugh...why do I live so high up?'

She hurried inside and wiped the small sheen off her face, opening the medicine cabinet and snatching the little bag Monica had given her to keep all of the new makeup inside. 'Glitz Kitten' was embroidered on the side and she smiled as she pulled the zipper open and grabbed the mascara wand. “Good thing I didn't get the time to do this before the walk. Monica said this is supposed to be waterproof, but knowing me I'll have raccoon eyes from sweating it off.”

She tried to keep her hands from shaking as much as possible so she didn't slip up and use more minutes cleaning and reapplying. She put the bag back and hurried into the main room, ready to check the clock when there was a light knock on the door. She whipped to it and threw it open, heart running faster than Bowser did this morning and yet no leash to halt it.

“Good morning Samara. You look lovely.”

She was definitely mad for having decided to live so many stories up because now she was going to have to go to the ground floor and pick her heart back up where it plummeted to.

Jeans. He was in...blue jeans. And a three-quarters sweater. With a patch of tantalizing skin showing under his chin enough to make one follow it down to his chest and wishing to continue. His hair was combed like it always was for the office, but the dichotomy hit her at that patch in her inner thighs burning before she could let him past the front door. She couldn't find her feet nor the hand that was gripping the doorknob. She looked at him with wide eyes, unable to pick her brain up to realize that she was openly ogling him like he often did to her.

This was going to be a long day if she kept thinking about how well that top fit his torso or how she'd like to see it off him or the fact that he was in skinny jeans again. Her imagination clobbered her over the head and her face kept getting redder by the second. Her arms started shaking, breathing picking up.

He let her look for as long as she wanted, knowing smile on his face as she kept doing it. She was so easy to read, so easy to tease, and he couldn't help himself this morning. “Is it acceptable Samara? Would you like me to twirl so you can see the back too?”

She jumped and her face flamed. “No! Oh my god, I'm so sorry Charles!” She rushed away for her bag in the living room and pulled her card and ID from it, putting it in the pocket with her phone. “Just kill me now. I haven't even left my apartment yet...” She grumbled, hands patting to verify her inhaler was in the other.

There was a chuckle dangerously close behind and she jumped, but couldn't move as a pair of arms gently tugged her up against solid muscle.

“You're just too easy to vex Bunty. Sometimes I lose myself in seeing your reactions. My apologizes.”

Was he speaking? She could only feel every nerve his front was touching and where his arm was safely wrapped around her waist and collarbone. Her heart raced, the need he could satiate sailing up like a bottle rocket. “Y...no...I...what?”

His grin was pure evil, the chuckle in her ear not helping the rush of her blood. “This is going to turn into a very long day Bunty if you are so worked up already. I had planned for such endings now that we may spend the entire day in each other's company without ramifications in public, but not before taking you out for a day of entertainment first.”

He was intending on this later?! Her knees shook and she leaned on his strength which seemed to have no trouble keeping her pinned against him. She wanted to tell him they could skip brunch and just stay in, but she also wanted to spend time with him aside that.

She quickly pulled away from his hold, hands over her cheeks. “I'm so sorry! I don't know what came over me!” She peeked around a shoulder to find his hands in his front pockets and teeth bit her lip. “Yes I do. Ugh...this is going to rule my life!”

He gave in and laughed at her misery, ignoring the glower his way. “Perhaps this will be a good opportunity to instill a sense of prudence for the public. A way to separate yourself from outside your doors as it were.”

“Easy for you to say. I've never been one to shut off my emotions. I don't even know how to do so. How am I supposed to act like nothing is wrong after what we did not that long ago?”

He smiled and stepped up to her, an arm snaking around her back. He took in the wide eyes and red face. “It just takes practice Bunty. Consider this another exercise while out and about.”

She was taken from his warmth when he stepped away and wanted to follow him and continue that. But she considered his words and took a deep breath for patience. She mentally ordered herself to stop being so dumb about only wanting anything physical from him. He was an intelligent, funny, charismatic person and being around him in general was nice. He was easy to talk to and didn't slight her for the things she was interested in. He didn't say anything about what she called embarrassing things like World of Warquest which she refused to talk about weeks ago.

She looked to the carpet in embarrassment for a moment before steeling her resolve and meeting his eyes. She found him already watching her, but she widened her stance in the power pose she had often done, fists at her side. “You're right Charles. I'm being immature. I'm sorry. Let's go get something to eat. I'm rather hungry.”

His face softened even further. He was proud of her and it settled quite nicely in his chest, but he didn't fight it. He merely stepped to the side to let her pass, following after her once she cleared him for the door. He stepped into the hallway around her and let her lock it, keeping her pace as they headed down the hallway. “Do you think you can manage the steps this time Samara?”

She paused at the top and gave him a dry look over her glasses. “I chose something a little less edgy for today. If you haven't seen, this dress is plenty wide.” She twirled for him, letting the bottom portion fan out around her.

“Pity. After you then.”

A brow went up, brain wondering just what he meant by that as she headed down. She didn't ask questions and focused on not making a fool out of herself by missing a step like she did a few nights ago in his presence.

She used the bustle around the street to jog her from the apartment and his last words. “So...where to first?”

“As you already mentioned. Food is a must and I know of a good location you are already familiar with.”

Her brow furrowed as she followed him. She was so busy trying to figure out of a place she and he both knew that she didn't even realize they had passed the block and were way too far away for his car to be parked. “Charles...are we not driving there?”

“The location is close enough to not aggravate your asthma. I spent a little time searching online until I realized the place had been staring at me in the face for many mornings.”

She looked at him, seeing a jovial look on his face and realize he was baiting her. “Is this going to be twenty questions?” She nearly grumbled, stomach protesting at being ignored.

He chuckled and looked her way, a hand lightly brushing through her hair to appease her. “I promise you'll like this place. You've shopped here many a day already.”

“I'm too hungry to be able to figure this out right now Charles.” She nearly warned, wishing she had eaten the moment she woke up so she wasn't so snippy.

“Worry no longer. It's just up ahead.”

She whipped her vision forward, finding The Daily Grind a block or so away. Her eyes widened, mouth falling open. She lost the power to keep moving her legs, getting Charles's eyes on her in question. She looked to him, then Dee's business.

“Is there a problem with the selection?”

There was a problem in showing him off to everyone before she managed to warn them! Someone as good-looking and smooth as Charles Jones was going to knock everyone for a loop! Sure Link had met Charles at the hospital, but she had made that first meeting very uncomfortable by wanting more from Charles that she couldn't even name yet and clung to Link to make Charles jealous. Until now, everyone only knew him as 'her boss' and she was suddenly leery of dropping that bomb.

Better now than never she supposed...

“N – no...no problem...” She quickly negated, hurrying to catch up to him. Teeth bit her lip for a second as she tried to phrase it without it sounding absolutely horrible. “It's...just that...I've only kind of talked about you to Dee...but I didn't warn them we were coming.”

He raised a brow and stepped around someone who was exiting the building, hand catching the door on its way back and holding it open for her. “I was unaware that a coffee shop required reservations.”

She wanted to tiptoe into the building, even as Dee locked eyes with her. “S – she doesn't...”

It was never clear until Dee's brows shot into her hairline that there were many different worlds Samara traipsed through every day. One world with Charles at work, then their private lives of the seductive type. Her online gaming friends that he listened in on which she was afraid he would judge. Ruminate with Marshall and all of the time she spent developing ideas with Link. Then there was Charles who had played that game and discussed it with her. Then there was the female fashion she recently discussed with Monica which was helping her develop her 'womanly side'...half for his sake. Then her childhood friends Vikki and Angela, whom she talked to about Charles. So many people that only knew certain things about him at specific times and even when she talked about those different worlds to others and him, it was nothing like seeing it in person.

Case in point: an openly stunned and curious Link and Dee.

“G – good morning Dee...Link...” Samara hedged, seeing the pair openly look at Charles. “Th...this is Charles Jones...my boss.”

“This?!” Dee blurted out, wide eyes going to Sam. She quickly cleared her throat and pasted on a smile. “Sorry. We've heard some things about you, but it's good to finally meet you in person.”

“All good things I hope.” Charles mused, looking from the coffee list to Samara with a smirk.

She flushed and looked his way. “Of course it is!” She insisted, wanting to run away. There was another person in line and she didn't need others privy to a personal issue she was going through.

“What can I get you two today?”

Samara quickly whipped to the order board, finding Marshall's drawing had been replaced with a different write-up. “What happened to the cow?” She asked, pointing to the chalkboard.

“Well, we can't leave it up all the time. I'll just have him draw us something else when I get another special going.” Dee answered.

“Can I have another one of that? It was really good. Marshall made it look really appetizing. I forgot to mention it to him... He does great advertising.”

“What's this about Ben?”

Brown eyes looked to Charles, finding him curious. “Ah...Marshall made a really cute design for Dee not that long ago. I was just asking about it. It's too bad you couldn't see it; it was really well done.”

Charles looked to the board, though it had been wiped clean for a while. “Ben does art?”

Samara smiled and headed down to the glass case housing all of the pastries. “Yes. He's very good at it too.” She bent down a little, hands on her knees as she looked at the muffins. “I think I need another blueberry muffin for the morning. They're really good.”

“Anything you'd recommend aside that?”

Samara nearly jumped at finding him almost slightly mimicking her pose. She felt utterly ridiculous doing this with him, although someone of his height had two options; kneel on the ground or bend at the waist. The top of the case only hit his chest at best and he looked kind of silly she thought, but it made her shake her head. Of course he could do that! How high of a pedestal did she put him on anyway?

“Um...sorry Charles. My breakfast from here usually comes in liquid form.” She smiled, deciding on a blueberry muffin and cinnamon roll. She stood and gave Dee the info, watching the woman grab tongs to pull out the items.

“What can I get you Charles?”

It all looked good. He was betting it was baked this morning because it practically screamed 'fresh from the oven'. “Such a difficult decision when everything looks so delicious.” He responded with a smile. “I think I'll take a page from your idea Samara and double up. I'll have a lemon and strawberry scone please.”

“Coming right up.”

“Here's your coffee Sam. Yours as well Charles.”

Charles turned to the male voice and his brows went up. “You took Ben to the hospital. Link was it?”

Link smiled. “Yes, that's me.” Link looked Sam's way. “What do you two have planned today?”

“I'm not too sure actually.” Samara admitted, looking Charles's way.

“If you don't mind Samara, I believe I'll keep that a secret until we get there if that's alright with you.” Charles grabbed the tray housing all of the baked goods and set his cup on it. “Where shall we sit?”

Inside where Dee and Link could potentially hear every word and make her feel even more self-conscious or outside where total strangers could listen in to whatever they felt like talking about? She was half tempted to leave the place entirely for her apartment, but it was such a nice day out.

One place came to mind. A place she never had time to lounge in.

“Actually, there's this rooftop patio I've never tried.” She looked his way, breaking eye contact with the hallway stairs to said place. “If that's okay with you...”

“Lead the way.” He responded, shifting the tray so nothing toppled over.

“Have fun.” Dee called with a grin.

Her face flamed when Dee gave her a thumb's up and she quickly whipped Charles's way, scurrying around him for the center of the room and way out. She let him go up first, not wanting to go around him despite there being enough room to do so. She excused herself to get the outside door and let him pass. “Wow! This place is nice!”

The rooftop spot was barely half of the total space, but there were multiple trees in one corner. It was only one story up, but the view was pretty good despite not having a grand scene of the city. The cars and pedestrians felt so much further away than the outside patio and she was glad she chose this place. No one else was around and she felt like it she was back in Charles's penthouse looking out at the skyline.

“I agree. Excellent decor and design.”

She went over to the table he had selected, pulling out her chair and thanking him for setting everything up. She waited in front of the spread as he put the tray on top of a nearby trash can before joining her and saying his trademark 'cheers' in Welsh.

“Thanks for buying again Charles.” She shyly broached, sipping the coffee. “How did you remember this place?”

A brow went up as he finished the first bite of scone before giving her his full attention. “After days of being favored with coffee from this franchise, it would be hard to forget the label on the cup you gave me. Deciding on this location over another was simple enough as a quick web search of location and menu selection.” He took a quick drink of coffee before grinning. “And I will admit that their goods are excellent.”

She laughed, leaning over the cinnamon that was still a little warm. “Dee is amazing. I wish I could get this place so much more business. That's why I patronize it whenever I can, even though we have a coffee machine in the break room at work.” She took a bite of the roll, frosting on her lips. “Dis ish so gud!”

He reached across the table before he could think, before she could get to a napkin. He swiped a small lining of frosting off the bottom of her lips and stuck his thumb in his mouth.

She was stone, the food forgotten in her mouth, face ablaze. She watched him with wide eyes, unable to blink as she watched him lick the digit, not breaking eye contact the whole time.

“The frosting is delicious.” He merely commented, smirking when she looked at him like he had sprouted a second head. “Are you going to continue to eat that or stare at me?”

She jumped and nearly choked on the food she hadn't swallowed. She went for the coffee, but practically burnt her mouth with too large of a drink. She put a hand over her lips, coughing and tongue sticking out for what felt like forever as she tried to breathe and cool it down. A hand rummaged for her inhaler, ending up needing it a few times to calm everything down.

He tried not to laugh at her expense, but she just looked so comical, even when she put the inhaler away and glared at him. The hand covering his mouth did nothing to hide the toothy grin on his face.

“Charles...” She growled, wanting to hide in the nearby trees.

He gave in and chuckled, reigning it in when she looked more than upset with him. “My...apologies Samara...” He got out, reaching a hand across the table. She looked to it, brow going up. “You are always so expressive; even what you would consider bad. I just...can't hold back sometimes.”

It was hard to be mad at someone whose laughter she didn't hear enough of and actually liked. She let everything go, hoping she hadn't made too big a fool out of herself with that unintentional stunt. Perhaps there could be more times today when she could get him to laugh not at the cost of her health.

“Are you alright? Did you burn yourself too much?”

A finger came out and touched her tongue, lightly poking on it. “I think I killed a few taste buds, but otherwise I'm fine.” She looked to the open palm still on the table. “Are you going to warn me if you do such a thing again?”

He grinned. “Probably not.”

She watched his fingers flex in a 'gimme' motion and gave in, all forgiven as he rotated his hand to be able to stroke the back of hers with his thumb. A smile cropped up and she wondered if everything was going to go cold before she had a chance to properly enjoy it. “What...about this?” She asked, looking to the his thumb. Her arm tingled all the way up to her shoulder and she was all too focused on that simple motion.

He followed her eyes, his softening. He slowly brought her knuckles to his mouth and gave a light kiss before putting them down and picking up his coffee. “I will always ask for that participation. Fear not; I will never take anything from you that you won't willingly give.”

She almost thought there was a double meaning to that. She copied him and eyed him over the coffee, watching as he went back to the scones.

“ _I_ _had_ _planned_ _for_ _such_ _endings_ _now_ _that_ _we_ _may_ _spend_ _the_ _entire_ _day_ _in_ _each_ _other's_ _company_ _without_ _ramifications_ _in_ _public,_ _but_ _not_ _before_ _taking_ _you_ _out_ _for_ _a_ _day_ _of_ _entertainment_ _first._ _”_

She chewed on the muffin, face warming. She felt like there was so much he wasn't eluding to and she wished they could have a full blown discussion about what he meant in her apartment, but knew she wouldn't be able to handle it in public. Curiosity was burning as much as her face was over the whole thing and she got lost in her head as she pondered his words. She was so entrenched that she didn't know she had finished her coffee until she picked it up and only found drips left.

“Aw...I need a refill.” She mumbled, standing. He copied her, but she put a hand on his arm. “It's okay Charles. I can afford a coffee refill...”

“It's no trouble Samara. I did ask you out after all.”

A brow went up. “Then shouldn't I have paid for that posh restaurant not that long ago?”

He snorted and sat back down. “Touche. I'll wait for you here and enjoy the view while you're gone.”

He wasn't going to eat while she was away? She smiled at how sweet that sounded and headed to the counter again. An idea popped up and she smirked at how perfect the setup was. “Dee, what did Charles order? Can I get a refill of that and mine too?”

Dee rang Samara up. “Are you going to buy that man coffee every day of the week now?”

Samara giggled. “Oh no...this is just a little something I thought up five seconds ago.”

"So how is everything going up there so far?"

"Um... I guess pretty well. I almost choked to death on a cinnamon roll and ended up in a coughing fit that started an asthma attack. So things are just peachy right now."

"Ah...well I guess that's what happens when you take too big of a bite?"

"Oh no...Charles was the one that caused the problem. He wiped off a chunk of frosting that I got on my lips and stuck his finger in his mouth."

"He did what?!"

Link stuck his head out of the open doorway to the back room and looked at Samara with wide eyes. She cringed, forgetting that the area was really quiet and sound traveled. She didn't feel like explaining the developments about Charles with Link after her attempt at the same situation with him not even that long ago. He was her friend, but it was going to take a little more to forget that she kept imagining him feeling her up.

Thankfully, Dee came to her rescue.

"Just a little harmless flirting sounds like. No big deal."

Link's brow furrowed. "I know I don't know the guy, but I hope everything is genuine."

Samara's brow went down, hackles going up a little. "What does that mean?"

"It's just...I hope he's not using you."

Her mouth dropped and she was at a loss for words for a second. "He's not using me!" Samara shot out. "He's no less interested in me than I am in him! If anything, I'd say I started it!" She grabbed the coffees and turned for the stairs. "Speaking of Charles, I'm keeping him waiting and need to get back."

"Sam, I didn't mean to offend you! I was just worried. I've never seen you this focused on someone before. You did say he is your boss and your dad does own the company..."

She was tired of the whole implication that Charles was using or manipulating her. Her brother Jay said very similar things. Was it so difficult to believe that she was actually involved with other people that had nothing to do with gaming? She didn't want to have to defend Charles again to somebody else so she merely bid Link goodbye and headed back up the stairs.

She opened the door and immediately caught his eye. She stared at him, wondering if it was so fantastical that somebody like her would be engrossed with somebody like him. She knew she was comely up until he stepped into her life, but things had gotten better. Although, looking back on the changes, they were amazing and she couldn't believe that she was here half the time.

Maybe Link was right. He had known her for years and he wasn't wrong. But to assume that Charles was only fascinated with her because her father was planning on giving her a cushy, wealthy job, a job she didn't even want, felt like a slap in the face.

He spied the extra coffee in her hand and a brow went up, smile forming. "Is this going to be a habit from now on Bunty?"

She startled and looked to the cup. All of the mischievous fun she had planned fizzled downstairs. The heat barely registered in her hand. She slowed walked over and quietly put the coffee down between them. "I just thought that...you'd enjoy a refill..."

He stood at the downcast look on her face, brow furrowing at the drastic change in tone. "Samara, is something the matter?"

Her mouth opened to be honest with him, but it snapped closed. She didn't want to involve him in her own mental debate and upset him. The things people said were groundless after all their time together and she wanted to save him from that. Her shoulders slumped a little, unable to look at him. "C...could I maybe...have a hug?"

He swept her up in his arms the second the word left her lips. He listened to her sigh and lean into him a little, hands lightly gripping his shirt. His chin went to the top of her head, merely holding her in silence for as long as she wanted. He wished to know what had transpired in the moments they were apart, but held himself back at the sniffle. His first priority, as it would always be, was her comfort and emotional security.

She mentally told herself to pull it together and stop ruining their date before it had barely started. She slowly pulled back, not wanting to leave his hold yet. She smiled as he moved to wipe the tear that started falling while her face was buried in his shirt.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

The smile wiped away at those words. She stared at his shirt, frowning. "I...it makes me upset. The things people say about you."

His brow furrowed in confusion, but he remembered that both of the employees were her friends. He recalled her hesitation when she found out where they were eating at and wondered what people knew about them. Not that their opinions mattered that much...

"Don't fret over that Samara. I'm used to it."

She pinned him with a shocked yet sad look. "Of course I worry about what people say about you! They don't know you like I know do Charles! You're so sweet and considerate to me all the time, but no one ever gets to see that! They just say unfounded things without knowing the facts! I wish people would see you the way I do; then maybe everyone would have a high opinion like I have."

He captured her lips the second she paused for air. The swelling in his chest was intense and it threatened to topple him over. His arms tightened around her, only slightly worried he would crush her, but unable to get control of himself in this second.

She crashed back to herself when his mouth slowly pulled away. She couldn't think properly and needed his arms to steady herself. Her eyes fluttered open to find him watching her. She blinked at the slightly contrite look on his face.

"I apologize. I know I said I wouldn't take from you without asking, but I couldn't help myself."

Her hand came up before she could think and cupped his cheek. "Then I am making a formal request right now."

He felt the tug of her hand and went back willingly. A hand rose to cup the back of her hair, but soon moved to cover her face. His thumb stroked her cheek, heart thumping in his chest. The feelings she instigated in him were not new, but they were buried and forgotten in the sands of time to the point of being fresh again. He dared a moment to revel in them, in the purity and naive trust she always directed his way. He didn't understand how she could give all of it so willingly and do so much, even though it was all small things. They built up over time, stuck on the back burner she had turned on and let simmer.

After moments of bliss, his lips slowly pulled away as he remembered where they were as the wind tickled the hair in front of his face and hers over his hand. He didn't feel like parting quite yet and rested his forehead against hers for a second. He felt like he wanted to say something, but couldn't force the words out.

“I'm...sorry if I ruined the morning...” She finally breathed, heart fluttering at his proximity.

His eyes peeked open, finding her eyes worried and unsure. He leaned forward for a final kiss before slowly pulling away. “I'd say that it's actually gotten a little better.” He mused, arm directing her toward her chair. “A fresh batch of coffee as a thoughtful gift and a chance to steal a few kisses before lunch.”

She flushed and giggled, shoulders hunched at her ears. She took a quick sip, finding the cinnamon roll was mostly cold and set about finishing it off before it dried too. “How are your scones?”

“Excellent. But I was about ready to come find you so I could finish them off.” He answered, quickly taking a bite. “Thank you for the coffee again. You spoil me with your thoughtfulness.”

She beamed, bad mood wiped away as if it never existed. Downstairs seemed to have never happened. She looked to the center of the roll and held it out between her fingers. “Want to try? It's the best part.”

A brow rose. “Is this an excuse to try mine?”

She gave him a dry look. “I don't care about the scones. It was just an offer. You don't have to if you don't want to...”

His hand came out as hers started to retract and lightly grasped her wrist. He leaned over his seat and took a bite just above her fingers, lips brushing them. He decided to make eye contact with her the whole time, watching as her eyes flew open and face quickly change color. He sat back, ignoring what he just escalated and tried to keep his smile down at how her hand was frozen in place in the center of the small table. “It's very good. The frosting is excellent, but I already knew that.”

She stuttered noises, brain not working in order to make proper words. She snapped to when he started chuckling at her misery and she tried to be more irate than she felt. “Charles!”

He slightly covered his mouth with a hand, smile too big to fit behind it. “Apologies Bunty. You do make it too easy sometimes.” He leaned on the table, coffee in one hand and heading to his lips. “I will confess that after the day is done, you may be happier to have gotten most of it out of the way now instead of later...”

“ _I_ _had_ _planned_ _for_ _such_ _endings_ _now_ _that_ _we_ _may_ _spend_ _the_ _entire_ _day_ _in_ _each_ _other's_ _company_ _without_ _ramifications_ _in_ _public_ _.”_

“ _Consider this another exercise while out and about.”_

He was planning on something at someone's place where they didn't have to be rushed, worry about the location, or someone breaking them apart. She had no idea just what was going to happen then or when or where, but she was too nervous to ask questions. Earlier curiosity sprang its ugly head, but she quickly shoved the bottom half of the cinnamon roll in her mouth. She knew she would find out later and his earlier suggestions hit her over the head.

'Ugh. Wait and see. I don't think I'll survive until the afternoon if he keeps doing stuff like that!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Link means so well.


	20. playing in water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His heart jumped a little and he felt his face warm. She didn't need to finish the rest of the sentence for him to know just what she was getting at. His fingers twitched and the idea of taking her hand sounded nice, but they reached the front before he could do so. He handed his card over, getting a hand stamp along with hers before they headed inside.

The walk back to the car was short. She clicked the seatbelt together as he started the engine and turned his way. “So, where to now?”

“I already said that I wished to keep that a surprise Samara.”

“But inquiring minds want to know! I'm sure it'll be fine in whatever you picked out. Can you at least give me a hint?”

“All I will say is that it was but one of two choices. I mentioned the other possibility to you at lunch many days ago, but decided against it. I didn't figure it was a proper choice for such a nice day. Also, that location requires reservations whereas this one does not.”

“That could be almost anywhere! Can't you give me anything better than that?”

“My lips are sealed Samara.”

She sighed, looking out at the city. “What if I guess?”

“We would probably get there beforehand.”

She pouted. “Are you seriously going to keep me in suspense the whole car ride?”

He grinned. “It's turning out to be more amusing to do so.”

“Charles...”

He chuckled and spied a look at her, seeing her slightly pouting out the windshield. “Patience is a virtue Bunty. Provided that traffic isn't an issue, I believe we should be there in about fifteen minutes from now.”

She looked to the clock on the console and sighed a little. She tapped a finger against a leg as she looked outside. Patience lasted about three minutes.

“Have I been there before?”

“I don't know Samara. You've never talked about it, although I've never asked for details.”

“Is it standing or sitting?”

“I surmise both.”

“You're not very good at twenty questions or are you doing this on purpose?”

He grinned, chuckling at her look when he glanced her way again. “I'm merely answering questions with as much information as I can Samara. Unfortunately, I can't give more details without revealing the location.”

“Not even one word?”

He paused for only a second. She was so fun to do this to and he wondered if she was even aware some of it was on purpose. “Hmm...one word. The best thing I can give you is 'water'.”

She blinked at him, trying to think of a place that had water. “That could be anywhere!” She blurted out. “A place that has water or deals with water? We just went to a restaurant where there was water. Ugh, this is so confusing.”

He looked her way when they were at the safety of a red light and patted an exposed knee. “You only have about five more minutes to wait and then all will be revealed. As I've said, I don't know if you've ever been there nor have I heard you discuss the topic so I hope you'll enjoy the place. I know I've not been to the location yet either.”

Could he be anymore vague?! She was derailed by the warm skin-to-skin contact for only a second and it jogged her irritation enough to spy peeks of the hand that touched her skin. She looked out the windows, not usually going in this direction and had no idea where they were. Her bus went the opposite way they were going and she usually didn't venture out much past work, coffee, and the park.

The biggest dead giveaway was a huge word 'aquarium' perched at the top of an oddly shaped building.

She leaned forward, taking in as much of the curved design as she could before they turned for the parking lot. “Ah... Water.” She blurted out, sheepishly grinning his way. “I get it now.” She got out of the car once her belt was undone and looked to it across the street. “I've never been here before.” She waited until he was next to her before they started walking over. “This means we get to share a first together here then.”

He smiled. She was getting better at looking on the bright side of things and he stopped at the corner next to her. “I hope it's an acceptable location.”

“So where was the other thing supposed to be at?”

The light beeped and he stepped off the curb in time with her. “I thought that perhaps it would be amusing to attempt an escape room together, but it seemed a tad much for today.”

She stopped in line and turned around to face him. “Oh, that would have been fun too.” She clasped her hands together as she looked to the ground bashfully. “It's...n – not the place...really...”

His heart jumped a little and he felt his face warm. She didn't need to finish the rest of the sentence for him to know just what she was getting at. His fingers twitched and the idea of taking her hand sounded nice, but they reached the front before he could do so. He handed his card over, getting a hand stamp along with hers before they headed inside.

She looked up, way up to what looked like an open second or third floor story space. Even at the entrance there were enormous fish tanks the size of her entire office and the aquarium had cleverly disguised them to look like stones were holding them together at the corners. It was supposed to stimulate some kind of underwater cave she guessed and it did a good job.

“Would you like a map ma'am?”

She whipped over to an employee and quickly took one. She unfolded it, seeing some kind of windy setup. It didn't look like it fit in the building, but it was exciting to see how it would work. “This place looks amazing.” She said, looking Charles's way. “It looks like we pass through everything on the way. This is going to be fun.” She looked over to the first section the went right into. She gasped when she saw sea otters up on some makeshift rocks. “They're so cute!”

He smiled, happy he chose this instead. She seemed to be enjoying herself already and it was rubbing off on him. He watched her head to the tank, going on about whiskers, tails, and laying on their back. Even a few feet away from her, he could feel her emotions leech into him and it made him take another step toward her. Just as he went to near her though, she passed him for the other side of the strange hallway area that another large tank was sitting on.

She jumped back a tad when a huge fish slowly swam in front of her. She whipped Charles's way, eyes wide and finger pointing. “Did you see that?! That fish is huge!”

He stopped next to her, taking in the occupants behind the glass. His eyes fell on a small plaque labeling the fish and alligators inside and tapped the plastic. “Supposedly there are alligators here too, but I don't see them.”

Her eyes squinted to take in the details and finally found two in the back on fake rocks blending into the wall. “There. Ugh...scary. So many teeth.” Some kind of fish that looked like it had been smashed up between two walls passed by and startled her again. “Ah! Wh – what's that? It's so weird!”

He pointed out the picture on the description in front of them, watching as she read it. Her eyes darted back and forth so quickly he was stunned that she was such a fast reader, but it made sense with all that she did in front of a computer all day.

He slowly meandered ahead as a small crowd started forming. He made sure to get there when the place opened so it wasn't so busy or loud. And they'd have extra time to hover until the place really got packed with families. The exhibit kept going with its unique design. It looked like some kind of canyon, at least until he spied what looked like a huge fallen tree limb high above. The flora from the first exhibit gave way to nothing and he looked over her shoulder as she studied where they were now.

“This is some kind of desert setup.” Her brow furrowed. “How is that going to work?” She looked around, cringing back when she saw intricately designed cages with large spiders inside. “Eek! Okay...can we kind of skip some of this? I'm not the biggest fan of spiders...”

“As you wish Samara.” He had never been to this place and while the design and flow were very fascinating, it wasn't a place he ever planned on attending on his own. This was more for her sake than his; he probably would've had more fun in the escape room, but he was enjoying himself second-hand through her.

The desert scene gave way to incredibly tall tanks that took up even more space, if that was possible. The light was dimmer here than the other areas, mostly shining through the top of the water.

“Wow...that's amazing architecture.” She nearly breathed, looking at the fake and real coral walls. “I can't tell which is real or not.”

He loitered next to her, letting some of the early families pass them by for the other things ahead. She was quiet for a few minutes and he spied a look, finding awe on her face and he smiled. She was like a child and it was endearing to soak up. He felt comfortable like this with her, just taking everything in. He was glad that neither of them had ever been here before; he had a feeling it wouldn't be the same otherwise.

“Mommy, I wanna go to the tunnel already!”

She looked at the child pulling on its mother's hand, brow going up. “Tunnel?” She turned for it, hand coming up to tug on his sleeve. “Can we?”

He nodded and followed her, taking in the eels, stingrays, and smattering of overtly large fish going as fast as they were. They rounded the corner, the noise picking up a little as it was trapped under the glass they soon found. His brows went up as he took in the circular cut and steel bars holding everything up. “Impressive design layout.”

“Whoa! This is neat!” She bounded a few steps ahead, head angled as high up as it would go. She watched a stingray swim over the top of the glass and followed it to the other side, finding some kind of shark swimming the opposite way. She kept turning, looking in as many directions as she could when she paused and nearly tripped over her own feet in her surprise. “What?!”

He headed to the side she was on, brow going up with an amused hum. “Is that a mermaid?”

There was a human with a colorful fish tail and swimsuit top hanging out in the nearby coral. She had nothing to help her breathe and it was amazing that she looked part of the underwater setup. The woman looked their way and swam over with a smile, perfect form of an actual mermaid. She put her hands on the glass and looked at both of them amiably before a brow went up. She pointed to each of them, making a heart with her fingers, head tilting to the side.

Her face flamed, shoulders hunching as the woman beamed and suddenly swam off. “What just happened? I'm confused.”

“I think she just asked if we were together. Perhaps she was eluding to the date part?” He surmised, watching as the swimmer headed around a stack of rocks and disappeared.

It took maybe ten seconds before two more swam back with her.

Her brows shot up past her bangs, but she smiled. “How many are there?” She watched all three come up to the glass and wave. One of them blew a kiss Charles's way and she almost wanted to do something, but the first diver they saw waved a finger at the woman and pointed her way. They locked eyes and the diver smiled. The mermaid looked between her and Charles a few times, then blew a kiss her way, pointing to him before she swam off with the others.

“I do believe that young woman was telling you to kiss me.” He pondered with a grin.

Her face flamed, the voices of other occupants bouncing off the glass and all too loud in that second. She looked around the area, face jerking his way when a hand gently curled under her arm. She watched him take a step forward, looking back in the water at finding the mermaids swimming back down from the surface. The trio stared at them, hands clasped and grinning.

“Is that alright Samara?”

She managed a choppy nod, a finger under her chin to direct her face to his. She met his lips briefly, tenderly, and her heart felt too big for the enclosed tank all of a sudden. When she opened her eyes, she looked into the water again to find the mermaids doing some kind of flips with smiles on their faces. One of them had her hands against her cheeks, a large grin on her face.

“Should we continue?” He asked, taking a step away.

The whole thing was so romantic and the atmosphere of it all clobbered her over the head. The families that were filtering around them vanished. She waved goodbye to the trio that split up and headed to a few children nearby. She easily caught up to him and stopped next to him. “Charles.”

He looked her way, finding her face red, but happy. “Yes Samara?”

She looked down, finding his hands in his pockets and bit her lip. “Um...could you take your hand out of your pocket please?” He silently did as requested and she grasped a finger, not bold enough to take his entire hand.

His face softened and he smiled her way. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

She nodded, smile ready to split her face. “This place is amazing! I didn't know such an awesome business existed in the city!” She stopped and looked around. “Shoot, I didn't take any pictures to show Angela or Vikki. I bet they'd like to see this place. I don't think they've ever been here either.” She released his hand to dig into her pocket for her phone. “Um...would you mind?”

“My pleasure.” He responded, hand out. She had set it up to camera and stood in the middle of the tunnel. He waited until there was a shark passing overhead before pressing the shutter to capture it. He waited another second as one of the mermaids was crossing over the top and took another. “Would you like any others?”

She held her hand for the phone, shutting it off and putting it back. “That should be good. I'm not here to take a bunch of pictures.” She looked to his hand and slowly extended hers. “I'm here to enjoy my time...with you.”

He looked down as she latched onto his finger and twisted his wrist to capture the rest of her hand in his. He quietly entwined the digits and gave a gentle tug to continue through the tunnel, eyes above on another large fish that went over their heads. “I second that.”

Her face was red way past the end of the tunnel into the next section. She wanted to see what it was called, but didn't want to let go of his hand to get the map out of her pocket. The area was darker than where they just were and she spied the light from inside a tank play on his features as the water moved. He was so handsome and she couldn't look away as his eyes followed something she couldn't register. Her heart was beating faster and it made her hands shake. She tried to take a few deep breaths, other visitors' voices helping to mask the noise, but she couldn't calm down fast enough before his attention was directed her way.

“Are you alright Samara?”

She couldn't look away. The perfect shadow and light on his face was attractive and she couldn't form words. Her mouth opened to answer him, but it was too dry for it to be usable.

He missed nothing. The look in her eyes was intense and it altered his good mood. The muted noise of the public turned down a little more, seemed much farther away as he fully turned to face her. He slowly raised her hand and brought her knuckles to his mouth, lightly brushing his lips over them. “Pace yourself Bunty. We're not out of the exhibit yet and the day is far from over.”

She snapped to, blinking out of her stupor as he slowly tugged her down immense tanks with fish she didn't know. She felt the heat of his hand in hers even as hers were chilled. She stared at him, the aquariums gone for a few seconds. He met her gaze, giving a soft smile and small squeeze to her hand.

They passed around the end of the section and the design changed drastically. “Wow...it looks like a real rainforest.”

“Yes.” He agreed, ducking under a slightly low hanging vine. “Very realistic.” He was slightly happy for the design as it adjusted her mood enough to take her from her stupor and back with him in this place. Not that he was adversed to seeing her slightly worked up, but he could enjoy that look much better once the afternoon had worn down.

They kept going around corridors and enclosed spaces. She saw a sunken ship and marveled at how genuine it seemed. Sharks and barracudas swam in and out of the coral area. She tugged on his arm to admire the design for a moment, but more children ran past talking about stingrays and she gave in to their exuberance and suggested they check that out.

“Don't stingrays...well...sting you?” She queried, watching kids stick their hands in the water to pet what was bigger than even a large dinner plate.

“Only at the tail Samara.” He let go of her hand, pulling his sleeve up and sticking his fingers in the water. A ray passed over and he touched the length of its back. He pulled his hand out of the water and flicked his fingers a few times to get the droplets off. “Not a texture I would've considered.” He mused, grabbing a nearby paper towel.

Her curiosity was peeked and she took off the bracelets and stuck them on the other wrist for safety. She watched as one neared and put her hand out, feeling slimy and yanked her digits back. “Ah! Weird.” She took the outstretched paper towel and wiped her hand off. “But, now I can say that I petted a stingray.”

She looked around the general area, seeing what looked like an eating section and went for the map in her pocket. Her eyes widened as she took off with him in tow to check out around the stands and found an escalator set upon their entrance. “Wait...we're done already?”

“Already has been almost an hour and a half.”

She looked his way, finding his eyes on his phone before it went back in his pocket. Her mouth dropped open. “That definitely didn't seem that long!” She looked to the area they passed before the exit. “This place is really well designed. I didn't think it looked like this from the outside.”

Her stomach suddenly announced that it had definitely been long enough looking at fish.

She looked at him and found him eying her curiously. “Yes...you just heard that.” She mumbled, face hot.

He smiled and looked to the map. “There is supposed to be a restaurant here. Care to check it out?”

She looked to the map and found they needed to head back to the entrance. They did so and she stood in front of him, feeling even shorter than she usually was. She snuck a peek and found her face almost in his stomach and whipped around before her imagination got the better of her...too much.

They ended up getting seated at a table next to a huge tank. She watched the fish languidly move around for a bit before the waiter brought them menus. She thanked the man and ordered water with Charles.

'Oh thank goodness the prices aren't as exorbitant as that other place.'

“Oh. They have burgers. I thought that it was just seafood.'

He smirked. “Are you worried that you'd be eating one of the occupants?”

“No!” She gave him a dry look over her glasses. “But it does sound good. I'm more prone to beef over seafood if I've got the option.”

“I agree a little, but I'll take the grilled chicken sandwich.”

There was nothing to do as they waited to give their orders. She closed the menu and folded her hands over it, biting her lip as she fought for the right choice of words. “Charles...” She hedged. Her eyes darted from him to her hands and tank they were near. “Thanks for today. I...really appreciate it.”

“It was my pleasure Samara. The feeling is mutual.”

She stared hard at her hands. The last few meals together usually ended with them parting after he dropped her off at her place. That wasn't going to happen today and it dawned on her just how content she was to be able to spend the rest of the day with him. She rolled the thought in her head that if something happened after this and he wasn't going to continue anything after the aquarium, how she would feel. She felt a tad lonely at the prospect of quitting with just a day trip and was anticipating the next step all over again. “No...I...”

He had been watching her, knowing she was struggling with something with how hard she was clenching her hands together. He gave her a few breaths of silence, hand lightly resting over hers as a means of comfort. “What's on your mind Samara?”

She let him have it with all of the emotions roaming through her eyes. “I'm glad that...you're not going to just d – drop me off and go your separate way after this.” Teeth bit her lip as she attempted to find the right words. “Even if it's for...that. I...really like spending time with you. Thank you for inviting me out today. Things would have been much more boring without you.”

A soft look took over his face and he didn't know if he realized how much he directed it at her. “Thank you Bunty. I appreciate that, truly.” He looked to her hands, thumb unconsciously moving to soothe her nerves as best he could. As much as she was sensitive by nature and from lack of physical contact, he didn't know if he'd help or make things worse. His other hand snuck under and cradled hers.

She was really thankful that the waiter showed up to take their orders. She was frazzled just thinking about what was going to happen when lunch was over and she didn't know whose place they were going to. She probably should suggest his apartment since it was huge and probably more soundproof than hers. She wasn't helping herself by skipping ahead another hour, but it was hard to run back to be where they were now.

The anticipation was making her antsy and her legs shifted a little. She exhaled a slightly shuddery breath, trying to be as quiet as possible.

He didn't fail to hear it. “Samara?”

Teeth bit her lip as she stared at the clenched hands on the table. “I'm...s – sorry... I'm being irrational right now...but I can't help it.” Hungry eyes pinned him down in his seat across the table. “I can't f – focus on here...” Her face flamed as she looked to the table, not really seeing it. “I'm already b – back in your...apartment...waiting for you.”

He harshly swallowed, jaw tight. His appetite and the smells around which had previously been doing a number on his hunger quickly evaporated. All he saw and heard was someone so wound up she was a coiled spring he could probably break within five minutes and one hand.

The thought was too tempting to give up.

He quietly stood and looked down into wide eyes. “I'll be right back.” He merely responded, heading off to the find the waiter. He located the employee and gave a polite smile. “I apologize. Something important has come up. May I get our food in to-go boxes please?”

“Yes sir, I'll bring those to your table.”

“I'd like to pay now if that's okay.”

“Certainly.”

He handed over his card, taking it back a second later and putting it away. He strode back to the chair and sat down, finding her much more composed after having jogged her to their surroundings. He sat down and took her in. She was still red-faced, as she always was, but she appeared a little more in control of her emotions. “Feeling better Bunty?” He broached.

She looked to the floor, chagrined at acting like this in public, even though they had done nothing more than talk. “Y – yes. I'm sorry for acting out of hand. I'm not t – too sure what came over me.”

He wisely kept quiet and merely extended a palm again. She took it without hesitation this time and he patted the back of her hand. “A mountain is always the hardest when you're standing at the bottom Samara. Things will get easier the more you practice and just climb to the top.”

A brow went up. “What does that me -”

“Thank you for waiting sir.”

She looked over to a bag, brow furrowing. “I think this is the wrong table.”

He let go of her hands and stood. “It's the correct table Samara. I had them put everything together for us to take with. Shall we go?”

“Go? Where?”

“To help you practice climbing that mountain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.instagram.com/p/B9Xec6cl7ZN/  
> https://www.aquariumrestaurants.com/downtownaquariumdenver/  
> Yes I've been in there. Yes, there are mermaids. Google image it. It's bamfy.


	21. reaching the top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The breath hitched in his throat as he looked into deep pools pinning him with the extend of her lust. He exhaled a shaky breath, arms going around her waist on their own and trapping her against him. He felt the tug on the back of his neck, but resisted going down all the way. He could almost feel the heat radiating off her face, could feel the racing beat in her chest. Yet she was slow and deliberate in her movements.

The previous heat between her legs turned into an inferno. She didn't think she was going to be able to stand, let along walk out to the car without falling over herself. Her face was burning up and she was shaking so much she all but required the chair to not fall through the floor. She stared at him in shock and expectation, veins practically boiling.

His hand extended, brow going up at how worked up she was with just the thought of the next hour. He tucked her arm in his for stability and held the food in his other. “Everything is paid for Samara. Focus on getting to the car without tripping.”

She tried to glare at him, but it was too weak to do any damage.

'Just...get to the car. Take some deep breaths. Don't fall down; he'll take you home instead and then you'll be no better than you were before he called that night.'

The only reason she managed to cross the street and get on the curb without incident was the thought of being turned away and taken back because she couldn't even walk to the vehicle.

She felt like there was so much tension from the second he shut the car door and got his seatbelt on. She tried to think of something to break the ice, but all she could do was stare uncomfortably at her legs, clenching her thighs as things built block by block. She didn't know where they were going and it was maybe three stoplights she could wait before she had to know.

“S – so...wh – where are we headed?”

“I thought my place was more appropriate.”

She harshly swallowed and managed a weak nod, heart thundering and adrenaline running so high she could've probably beat him back to his place. She tried to take deep breaths, but ended up fishing for her inhaler and taking two puffs.

His eyes jerked over at the first inhale, his own heart calming a little at the gravity of things. A finger tapped on the wheel as he thought how such things were going to occur for her if she hadn't even stepped past his doorway. A few ideas came to him and he rolled them around in his head as he kept driving, finding a few better alternatives. “Samara.”

She jumped and dropped the inhaler, quickly fishing it off the floor and clutching it to her chest. “Y – yes?!” She squeaked.

He fought the smile at how comic she sounded. This was actually a serious matter that he didn't want amusement to interfere with. “Concerning your inhaler. I know you are distressed that you have to use it because your lungs can't handle such things, but I will find a way to integrate it with our time together. However, as I don't know how the start of an asthma attack goes, you will need to inform me when you need it before it gets too bad. I won't stop whatever occurs when you need your medication and will accommodate you accordingly. If you think you don't need it and clearly sound like you do, I will stop everything until you take what you need. Is that clear?”

The commanding tone washed over her, invaded her ears, and almost demanded immediate submission to what he wanted albeit for her sake. With as much as she had been forced to stop because of the inhaler in her pocket, to do so when she was finally at his mercy would be torture. She quickly nodded, but his eyes were on the road and she clutched the hem of the dress, thighs hot. “Y...yes, Charles. I understand...” She breathed.

She was so turned on that it was hard not to speed a little more. He didn't need police intervention right now, but the prospect of finally having her in his hands, to be able to do the things he said over the phone, made his grip tighten on the wheel.

“Good Bunty.” He spared a second glance, seeing her red-faced and the bottom of her dress fumbled up a few inches. He took in the peek of leg, finding it irresistible. “Everything I do will be for your benefit. If there is something you don't like, you must tell me so I can stop immediately.”

“What about you? You said the same thing on the phone too.”

His lips twitched. “You'll soon find Samara that there are multiple ways to give and receive between two people.”

Teeth bit her lip, almost drawing blood at the strength. It was cryptic, tantalizing, hopeful. She wanted to find out just what that meant and was happy they had left the restaurant instead of staying till the end. The aquarium had been a great place to visit and she had fun, but her mind and body had switched gears to something else. She fought it off and on all morning, but it rampaged through her blood and she was practically vibrating right now. She felt so uncomfortable and needy that she wanted to reach across that seat and take a hand, but it was too risky. She had almost killed them the night she got drunk and she didn't want to do that again.

The neighborhood became familiar and she knew they were almost there. 'Just...just hold out a little longer. Then you can be at his mercy. Geez...what do I even want him to do to me first?'

The phone call floated through her ears. His voice then was smooth and low. The simple things he told her to do that she watched on her computer seemed kind of easy. Perhaps she should see what it was like from someone else's touch. Her thumb floated up and bit hard though she hardly felt it. She stared at her knees, mind whirling. All of the porn videos she studied of various types, the phone call with him, the merged man, the dream Charles was in. They roamed around her head, shoving each other to be first in line for consideration. She harshly swallowed eyes sliding closed as she tried to breathe through it all.

A small moan escaped instead.

His eyes jerked her way, glad he was parking the car and didn't hit anyone with the sudden startle. He left the engine going for a second with it out of gear and looked at her. Whether she was aware or not, her legs were shifting back and forth just a little to rub herself. Her eyes were closed, head back against the seat as her enjoyment took hold. He leaned forward, hand keeping him steady near the gear shift, and found her ear. “We're here.” He murmured, voice low.

Her eyes flew open, a loud gasp escaping. She whipped his way, body flying against the door in shock. Her hands clutched at her her chest, the adrenaline and surprise mixing quite dangerously so. “Y – you...scared me!” She shakily bit out, his nearness not helping her to calm her heart any.

He smiled knowingly and the free hand turned the car off. “Despite how fun it is to watch you come undone at the seams Bunty, I think it'd be more comfortable for you on a fluffier surface.”

She shook her head and fumbled with the seatbelt, hand shaking too much to be able to get the door open easily. She had to keep hold of the frame, taking a few deep breaths and stop making a fool of herself in public.

The worst part was how collected he looked as he stood in front of her, palm out.

Her jaw clenched and she mentally ordered her feet to move. She didn't know how he could act like nothing was wrong when they were probably going to be shedding clothes soon and see more than either had ever seen! There was the phone call and the few office attempts, but nothing like what was going to occur soon. The irritation at seeing how cool he was served its purpose to get her away from his car and toward the elevator. She all but stomped inside and leaned against the wall, glad they were alone so she could sulk all she wanted.

At least until his arms planted on either side of the wall and got her full attention.

“Is there something wrong Bunty?”

She looked at him with wide eyes, crossed arms frozen, face red. She could only stare into the ocean depths as the elevator went up slowly. She trembled, not even being touched by him and yet his simple nearness had the ability to turn her inside out. “Y...y...you're...too close!” She burst out, hands trying to push him back.

His lips were suddenly an inch away from hers, stormy eyes gluing her to the spot.

“Is that a problem? We're almost there. Are you going to survive?”

“M – maybe...not...?” Teeth bit her lip, his breath on her face making her want to attack him right then and there. A thread of realization speared through the clouds as he pulled back with a smile and took a step away. “You...y – you're doing this on purpose!”

He smirked, turning when the elevator dinged and opened a second later. “You are too fun to tease Bunty.” He took a step away, hearing her stomp from the lift to his door. He looked behind to see her very hot and bothered and glaring at him. He chuckled as he opened the front door. “I meant no offense.”

He didn't, huh? He often teased her and then apologized for it, but he kept doing it. Her eyes turned to slits as she quietly followed him inside. She stopped in the main area, fully lit from all of the windows. She looked around, brain whirling and mind snapping a few threads of sanity off. Her brain remembered a lot of the foreplay she watched before those videos got to business and there was a sense of calm that hit her.

“How are you faring Samara?”

She looked to him, finding him not as hot and bothered as she was. Was his blood even boiling a little? He wasn't flushed and he looked as orderly and put together as when he knocked on her door earlier. That wouldn't do. She didn't find it fair that she was the only one to feel this way.

“Not too good.” She murmured, taking a step toward him. He wasn't that far away and she reached him in a few paces. “Quite...upset actually.” She looked to the gray, fingers twitching. She gave in and put her hands on his chest, knowing it would happen sooner or later. His arms flinched at the sudden contact, but her lips twitched a little. She watched the digits spread and move up enough to feel his heartbeat. She was pleased to know it was going a little faster to belay his outward countenance. “I just realized that I was the only one having all of the fun.” She brushed her breasts against his chest as her hands neared his collarbone. Teeth bit her lip. “It didn't seem right that I was the only one turned around...”

The breath hitched in his throat as he looked into deep pools pinning him with the extend of her lust. He exhaled a shaky breath, arms going around her waist on their own and trapping her against him. He felt the tug on the back of his neck, but resisted going down all the way. He could almost feel the heat radiating off her face, could feel the racing beat in her chest. Yet she was slow and deliberate in her movements.

“Kiss me Charles.”

They were alone. In his place. The day was early and there were no other responsibilities taking them away from each other. They had toyed with each other for days, only finding a little relief in that late night call of ecstasy. The phone call came back and the many hours it replayed in his head near and away from her. So many times he wondered if there would be an evening to recreate it, but it had been put off to the point of being forgotten.

He attacked her lips with the frustration he also suffered through; the want, the wish to see everything for himself. To relieve himself of all the outfits she had worn in front of him. All of the kisses she instigated that were buried before they could go further.

She gripped his shoulders, tongue fighting his at the rush it gave her. There was a power in battling for the heavier will, to show who had endured more. She thought she had done a little on his exterior in feeling his heartbeat go a tad faster, wondering what else she would have to do and ready to try, when he suddenly leaned down and gripped her under her thighs.

She yelped and grabbed the sweater as he hoisted her much higher, wrapping her legs around his waist so she didn't fall. Although, he seemed to have a pretty good grip on her backside for such things to happen. She shivered at the nails slightly digging into her dress.

Without words, he deposited her on the kitchen counter, pushing one of the stools out of the way. He remained nestled in between her legs as she kept him trapped and happily so. His lips felt hers and tuned in to the feel of her muscles squeezing his waist. A shiver stole up his spine when she moaned into his mouth. His hands relaxed their grip on her rear to brush down the sides of her legs, feeling her legs twitch and shift. He found what his hands were hunting for in the hem of her dress and his nails stole under it.

The air escaped in a whoosh. Her thighs burned with a need that he was setting ablaze by inching his way higher. She mewled for more as he massaged the outer section of her muscles and seemed to have no qualms with the speed he was going. She squeezed him, not wanting to leave his mouth to tell him more, but her lungs wouldn't allow it.

He could hear the gasp for air when she left his mouth, pulling air in one after another. His head dipped to the curve of her neck when her head tilted back. He hovered, intently listening for her breathing to steady, but it didn't. “Samara...which pocket is your inhaler in?”

She barely heard him over the rushing of blood in her ears. A hand fumbled to its location and took it out, his hand gently moving hers to her mouth. His hands were warm, but strong and kept the device there.

“Take your medicine. So long as you do, I don't need to stop.”

That voice tone was dangerous! No sooner than the first spritz was in her mouth that his lips found her neck. Her body shook much more than before when he found a vein and licked it. Her head cleared for just a second to give another shot. Breathing it in wasn't hard with as much as she was gulping air. She almost made herself light-headed from it all.

“ _I_ _won't_ _stop_ _whatever_ _occurs_ _when_ _you_ _need_ _your_ _medication_ _and_ _will_ _accommodate_ _you_ _accordingly._ _”_

He was true to his word and after taking two shots, her hand fumbled for stability on the counter while he kept at her neck. She leaned back, head tilted as far as it would go, trembling as his fingers snuck further up the dress, hiking it as he went. Her legs tingled, her spine shivered.

She couldn't think, could only feel everything he was doing and he wasn't even doing that much. It was so nice, but she knew there could be more. She had seen it, had heard it from his lips. She wanted more from him, but she couldn't think of exactly what. It took moments of trying to find her voice, of debating if she wanted him to stop this for something else, to pinpoint where he needed to lavish next. “Ch...Charles...” She rasped.

He didn't pause, but his eyes peeked open to stare at her skin. “Yes Bunty?”

She cringed at what his noise did to her. The muscles in her thighs clenched. “I...want...more... Something else.”

He pulled away enough to brush his lips along her jaw, hearing her gasps. It was music and he was content to listen to it all night, despite how it was making his jeans hurt. “Where else should I go Samara?”

His hands stopped at her hip bones, patiently waiting their next command. His lips were still doing their magic “Higher...no, lower. Both.” Her fingers moved forward as she sat up. She inched toward him, eyes opening with difficulty.

“You'll need to be a little more descriptive than that Samara.”

She licked her lips, panting as she met blue. The hungry look was there and she relished in it. He was waiting and he still didn't seem as turned around as she was. It was a split decision, but once she opened the belt and gripped the hem, the dress was shucked to the counter, her head shaking her hair clear. Her legs tightened suddenly, drawing him the last few inches to her thighs until she felt how upturned he actually was. She moaned again, hearing a quick exhale from him and smiled. “Ah...here I worried I was the only one all hot and bothered...” Her hands grabbed his shirt, pulling it from the confines of his pants. “Like I said; higher and lower. Should I show you?” She pulled the shirt over his chest, bunching it under his arms when they didn't raise to finish taking it off. “This needs to go.” She murmured, lips near his.

Those four words sent a tingle from his lips all the way to his groin. He shivered from the effects and how powerful her tone was. It was demanding; no stutter, no hesitation.

It took all of five seconds to yank it off and drop it on the counter.

He stood in front of her, hands holding him upright on either side of her underwear. She watched him stare at her chest and admired the disheveled hair from his hasty shirt removal. Teeth bit her lip at every muscle seemed to stand out in the afternoon light. The hair fell over one eye, hot and aroused when it finally locked eyes with hers. Nails dug into her palms as she itched to touch him but felt like the spell was too powerful.

He thankfully broke it by lightly cupping his hands over the back of her underwear and pushed her against him again.

She gasped, head jerking forward at the sensations he invoked. Her arms wanted to do something, but she didn't know what else to do or where else to go from here. She had never been picked up before and the fact that he was here like this was nice to experience.

He took in the hesitation, leaning forward on his arms a little more to rest his elbows on the counter. He looked up into her face, hearing the hitch in her breath. “What else would you like to do Samara?”

She couldn't find words. She mentally fumbled for what felt like eternity until her legs tugged him to her and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think...your bed...might be more comfortable.” She tugged herself off the counter, feeling his hands quickly cover her rear and coming dangerously close to further inside. The thought of finally getting his hands there made her shiver and her tongue darted out again. “That is...if you can handle climbing the stairs that is.”

He smirked and easily whipped her around, getting a startled 'eep' at how he moved her and worried she would probably fall. “I think I can handle your slight weight Bunty.”

He oozed confidence and while it was sexy, he was always like that. Something in her wanted to see him lose control in the most delicious way and it was only a few steps for the stairs when her mouth came down on his neck.

He froze before he faltered and dropped her. His arms clenched, hands tightening around skin and getting a groan from her. His arms trembled a little, but not from straining to keep her against him. “S – Samara...please... Not...on the stairs...”

Her eyes peeked open as she licked where she thought he did earlier. “I thought you could handle it Charles. Was that incorrect?”

He tried to breathe properly, heart racing. He pushed against her underwear, wanting to rid himself of the confines on his waist. The cocky tone struck a chord and he found it exciting. Just like that night in his room which instigated everything and paved the way to where they were now. His lips curled a little despite the passion in the room and his steps continued, but much slower. “Have it your way Bunty. S – see...ugh...what you get when you set fire to dry kindling...”

The jostling of the stairs with his waist against hers had her returning the favor on his skin as much as possible. Her legs were tight against his waist and she could feel the bump clear enough. Where she had always been scared of it before now made her restless. His fingers would spasm in time with one of her ministrations, the air leaving him in a whoosh. There was a small moment of reprieve as he hit the first floor, but soon returned with a vengeance as he cleared the final steps to his room.

His chest was heaving from exertion and emotion. It was a power trip to know that she cut the seams to his control just a little as he always did to her. The smell of his cologne combined with a little sweat she could feel from his torso wasn't helping the sudden need to torture him and herself. She had never been given such prime access to him despite how much he had touched her before. The thrill of new lands was too good to pass up letting her explore.

Her tongue came down and slowly licked the hollow of his neck and he almost dropped her. His head tilted back automatically and she lightly nibbled her way up to his jaw. She paused when she met his mouth and looked into closed eyes and parted lips that were taking in air as fast as she had been moments ago. She paused, waiting for him to open his eyes and look at her. Teeth bit her lip for a second as she took in a look she had never seen on his face before, but really wanted to continue. “How...how am I doing?”

He wanted to ravish her and take away those unsure words. He mentally wondered just what to do next before he gave in and dropped her on his bed with a surprised cry. She didn't have far to go and looked up at him with wide eyes. He kneeled in between her legs, hands on either side of her face. “Would you like me to show you just what you've been doing to me Bunty?”

She froze like a deer in the headlights, only managing a choppy nod after a second. It was all he needed and his head dipped into the valley he had wanted to touch for so many days. His hands scooped up her back and arched her breasts closer to his face, as if they could be any closer than they were now. He smelled her natural scent, nose trailing up to her neck and pausing at her ear. “At any time there is anything you don't like, stop me. I would hate to turn you off in any way.”

How was that possible when he was slowly rubbing his erection against her inner thighs?! She couldn't think, especially when he took the bottom part of her ear in his lips and nibbled on it. She cried out, hand plopping over her mouth at the volume she displayed.

He smirked and leaned back enough to take her hand away from her mouth. “None of that now Bunty. Don't feel the need to censor yourself in my presence. I finally have you all to myself after all these nights and I intend on making it worth both our while.” With that, his nose slid down her neck to her cleavage, slowly kissing his way across every inch of skin that he could find.

This was so much better than any fantasy, any dream she had, or the phone call. He was here, he was real, he was doing things that he knew she might like. She was quickly finding out that everything he did was something she liked. “Ch...” She panted, voice lost for heartbeats. The strength of his arms around her back was making words hard. “Charles...”

He paused, the heat of her skin mingling with his. He looked up, her moans driving him on to do more. He rocked against her a little, sending shivers through him and delectable noises from her. It was driving him insane and he wanted to bury himself in her, but held back. The last thing he ever wanted was to hurt her with his urgency. They did have the afternoon to get to that after all.

“What is it Samara?”

Teeth bit her lip as she struggled to sit up. His hold loosened instantly and he watched her. Blushing, intense eyes, mouth parted for air. Directing it all his way. His mouth went dry.

She attacked his lips, legs latching around him and pushing him against her harshly. She cried out, hearing him do the same. It gave her enough courage to do it again, feeling his muscles clench tightly as his passion suddenly increased tenfold. Her hands felt those muscles, going to his back and nails digging into his skin when he pushed against her again.

This was insanity. She was killing him and had already evaporated his brain. But he liked it. A lot. The heat he was losing himself in literally and theoretically was much better than either Rosewood or Eva had given him from doing practically nothing. He was solely responsible for the scratches, the pushing, the pulling, the intensity, the neediness. She wanted him and all he had to do was put his hands on her.

“Pants...”

He paused his movements, not understanding. “What?”

Her hands smoothed past his back, down his chest, and stopped on the belt. She grabbed the end from the loops and yanked the clasp toward her. She watched the entire thing, eyes slowly coming up to meet his shocked ones. “Pants. Off.”

An eye twitched at the sheer conviction that had his heart turning up a notch all of a sudden. He couldn't think and the ability to speak ran away for a second. He couldn't get his limbs to move to obey her, didn't think she'd be capable of such a thing. She gave no room for indecision; she was dead serious. It took a few seconds for his head to catch up and he blurted out the first words that came to his head. “Would you do the honors?”

Her hand froze on the belt, digging into her palm a little. She stared at the smug grin, seeing the fire in his eyes, the expectancy, the question. Did he think she wouldn't do it at this point? She felt a jolt of adrenaline for a second before something clobbered her over the head and she got inches away from his lips, mouth opening for a second and pulling away when he made to kiss her. “Are you sure about that?” She breathed, lips curving.

The superior feeling took a nosedive as a sense of wavering actually flared its head. A brow went up, but her mood was infectious and he couldn't resist the bait. He released her and flopped on the bed, grinning. “Positive Bunty.”

She stared at the cocky look, the raised brow, and half smile. His arms were spread out on the bed, the lump in his jeans straining the fabric. She faltered for a minute, not sure of how to do such a thing in a sexy manner to mimic all that they'd done so far. She slowly lowered herself over him, hands and knees propping her up as she straddled his torso. Surely there was no need to hurry though. The afternoon wasn't that late and the evening wasn't even here. He made sure they didn't need to be rushed and she lightly kissed his chest with that thought in mind.

His eyes slid closed with the feel of her lips and hair on his skin. There was little pressure and a sense of shyness in her movements, but they steadily went south until she was at his navel. She suddenly stuck her tongue inside and he jumped with a yelp, eyes flying open at the electric shock it sent even further down.

She sat up in a second, concerned she had injured him or done something he didn't like. There was nothing but panting up until the noise he had yet to give and she knew from gauging herself such noises were good. She met his eyes, her brow up and checking for possible injury. “I'm sorry! Was that wrong?!”

He chuckled at the usual chagrined look on her face. He sat up, hand cradling her face. “I was merely stunned Samara. I never expected you to know such a move.”

She pasted on a nervous smile. “Ah...I saw that in a...video once.”

A brow went up. There was only one kind of video that she could watch for that and he felt the urgent need to pick on her. “Pray tell innocent Bunty...were you watching pornographic movies?”

Her face flared, but her brain quickly pointed out that he was doing it again and she glared at him. “You!” She pushed him and he fell onto the bed with a laugh. She put her hands on his chest and pushed, leaning closer when he didn't stop. His arms suddenly came up and pinned her against his chest, mirthful look tearing her irritation away.

“You're just so amusing Samara.” He murmured, pushing her head down. He released her mouth, smiling at her. “I could think of no one better to spend my afternoon with. Thank you.”

She smiled, lips returning to his, original goal forgotten. The shock which had previously dissolved all the passion he built up left, to be replaced by affection. She kissed him slowly, humming at the hands futilely brushing her hair back. Her weight settled over him and she didn't worry about crushing him from his earlier comment on the stairs.

His arms swept from her back down to her side, imprinting the soft feel of her skin in his fingertips. The small, unplanned detour was nice and he didn't fight it. Whereas it had always been more about the deed itself or some kind of specific foreplay, she was none of those. She expected nothing, asked for nothing, and it was a nice change of pace. Anything he wanted would be fine with her, yet if she made her few wants known they were easy to fulfill.

Speaking of...

He pulled away, hands stopped at her hip bones. “I do believe Bunty...that you were in the midst of something before getting derailed...”

Her eyes fluttered open, head suddenly being directed back as his mouth sucked up her collarbone. The fingers on her hips pressed in and pulled her down a little. She felt something twitch and the gears switched again.

“R...right...” She mumbled, eyes closed and mouth open. “J – just...do that...Ah! A...few m – more...times... Unf...”

He obliged, his hips reaching for hers. He breathed out a moan as she cried out, her hands reaching for stability and entwining in his hair. Her grip increased, her head thrown back in ecstasy. He leaned up, tongue out and gave the barest touches which she afforded him. Her skin was suddenly in his face as his mouth clamped on it, applying a little more pressure than he probably should've. She gave no clue that it was too much; if anything, her moans got louder.

She couldn't take this! Well...she could forever, but she knew that there were other things they could be doing to take her higher. The emptiness that quickly plagued her was something she knew he could take away and she wanted it right now.

At length of remembering she had limbs, she slowly pushed away, mouth going for skin to return all he had given her. “Maybe.” Kiss. “I'll just...” Lick. “Make my way there...”

A response was ready to be sent, but his tongue was dead at the higher pressure she exuded on his skin. She licked in between his muscles and his hands felt useless. He felt like he wanted to move her, but told himself to let her do as she wished. She was doing a good enough job as it was. His hands came up, palms digging into his eyes as he twitched at every ministration. Her tongue carefully licked around his navel as if in doubt before delving in again.

His head dug into the bed as his back arched. The moan wrenched from him sounded louder in his ears, the second more after she did that again.

She felt powerful to know that he had buttons too and she found one. She decided to see what would happen if she kept pressing it and was verbally rewarded for her efforts.

“S – Samara...” He panted, hands going to the bed. He somehow how managed to sit up, but it was hard. A shaking hand managed to find her chin and raised it up. “That part...may be a little more...sensitive than others...”

She saw how a sheen had broken out on his forehead, her work shining in the afternoon on his muscles as he gulped air. Her lips tilted a little at seeing how worked up he was. Such a difference from his usual collected self. She liked it. What else could she do to make this look even more severe?

A hand came up and yanked on the belt again, bending it back and flicking the clasp from the punctured hole. “How about here?” She mused, undoing the metal buckle.

He watched her zip the fly down, eyes on him the entire time. There was a passionate look in her eyes and it was a harsh fight to keep from grabbing her and covering her body with his. His fists clenched tight to instill patience, wanting to see what she'd do next. To see if she had the guts to do anything else she had never dreamed of a mere month or so ago.

She looked down at the covered bulge meeting her eyes. She was curious about it, shy that she was going to touch it, and didn't know if she would be able to do it. There was one thing that needed to happen first though. Her eyes skipped up his torso, finding him avidly watching her, chest rapidly rising. His face was a lovely shade of pink and she liked seeing him like this. “You're gorgeous.” She blurted out, mentally startling a little.

His face heated a little more, soft smile forming. He sat up, thumbs tugging his pants off before he hovered over her again. He took in the underwear, the red face, ardent eyes, slight uncertainty. Her hands were lightly clasped at her chest as she watched him, wondering what he was going to do next. He took it all in, knees stopping near hers, forearms on either side of her head. “You are by far the more exquisite creature in this room. Should I show you somehow? Anyway I can?”

She harshly swallowed and managed a choppy nod. “Any...how?”

“Where should I begin?” His eyes roamed the upper half of her body. A hand gently pulled an arm away. “Here perhaps?” His head lowered and kissed the valley of her chest. “But I've always been here. If you would permit me, may I move this?” His fingers brushed at the cotton.

“Y...yes...” She somehow hoisted her back up. “It can...come off entirely...actually...”

He smiled, hand going to her back and finding the clasp with ease. So many of them were designed the same and it was nothing to undo the catches. His finger hooked at the center and slowly pulled down. She moved each arm and finished the job, hearing it plop somewhere in the room.

His mouth found the rest of skin he had yet to taste and received an instant cry of pleasure for his efforts. He clutched her ribcage, feeling her hands grip his hair again. He stayed on one side for as long as he wished, getting no complaint and avid noises to keep going.

She gulped air, not able to keep quiet as he kept doing that. Her chest heaved and she lost control of her breathing.

The telltale wheezing signs made him pause in a second and look at her. “Samara. Where is your inhaler?”

“I...think it...rolled somewhere...near the bed.” She got out, trying to slow her heart rate to no avail.

His eyes darted around, finding it a few steps away. He grabbed it and instantly pushed it into her mouth, chest leaning on her waist. “So long as you take that, I won't need to stop.” He reminded, mouth heading to the other peak.

She cried out, quickly spraying medicine before she lost herself again. Breathing it into her lungs was the easy part and she took two more spritzes when she didn't calm down fast enough. She dropped it somewhere near her head for a later use she knew she'd need before returning her focus to him. “Char...les... Yes...” She squirmed under him, fingers massaging his scalp.

His fingers splayed over the back of her waist, pulling toward him though she couldn't get any closer than she already was. She was upping the situation again and his mouth licked and sucked down her stomach, repeating what she had done with loud verbal agreements to his work.

He paused at the elastic to her underwear, thumbs swinging back and forth under it between her hip bones. “Samara.” He quietly stated. He waited until he had her attention. “I will continue at your word.”

“Yes Charles. Touch me...down there. Please. I...need you so badly.”

His erection twitched and it was a hard fight not to take her. His hands gripped her hips, mouth lowering.

She clamped a hand down despite how loud it was around everything. “Yes!” She shouted, legs widening on their own. Her head thrashed on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. “God...Charles...yes!”

Her fervor inspired him to go faster, put more pressure in. Her hips tried to buck against his mouth, but his muscles only allowed the barest inches up before she was held at bay. “Samara.” He mumbled, eyes darting up. “Listen to me.”

His voice cut through the fog, but him stopping was much more affective. “W...why did you stop?!”

He smiled, nose running along where his mouth had been. “I want to ask you a question. It might have an obvious answer, but I must ask it anyway.” A hand swiped over her sex, stopping at where he wished he was right now. “Is this okay?”

His fingers pushed in just a little and she mewled in frustrated need. He did one more time and stopped, leaving her wanting and she snapped up on her elbows. “Yes!” She glared. “Damn it, yes!”

He grinned, slipping two fingers around her underwear. “This may be easier if the last vestiges of your clothes were removed, no?” Her hips immediately went up and he shucked the last undergarment somewhere else. His mouth lowered, hands delving into tight heat and moved.

Her head thrashed on the bed, glasses coming loose. A hand fumbled for them, tossing them somewhere higher up on the mattress. Hands covered her face as he moved slowly, taking his time. Her blood boiled, heart going impossible speeds and she prayed her lungs would hold out. Her hands floated to her breasts, touching them as he touched lower. The combo was delicious and she kept at it. Her knees twitched, legs rubbing against his skin as best she could. “More...” She rasped. “Charles...yes...god...faster!”

He complied, feeling her insistence bleed into him. His ears could die with as loud as she was, but he wanted more. “Samara, are you close?”

She pinched her nipples, teeth gnashing her lower lip. “Y...ah! Yes... Harder...please! Just...a l – little...more!”

His hand smashed forward as far as his fingers would go and his hand convulsed, arm burning. He sucked near to the point that he worried would cause pain, but she didn't seem to mind. “Tell me when you do Samara. I want to hear you say my name.”

With the way he was jiggling her apart, it took till he finished saying that. “AH! Charles! Yes! I'm...yes! God...more! It's...yes! Great!”

He looked up to find her head thrashing on the bed, fingers busy in a pincer grasp on herself. He lost himself in her orgasm, hand going despite how his arm was burning. He kept going, even when she begged him to stop, that she couldn't take it. He relished those words, drank them in, and his hands moved.

“Ch – Charles...please! I can't! No...m – more...it's t – too...much! Please!”

He relented, feeling her collapse onto the bed and straightened to take her in. Her eyes were opened, but unseeing, gulping air as much as she could with arms flopped at her sides. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and it was hard not to scoop her in his arms and hold her. He wanted to let her enjoy the ride down.

Her asthma made that tricky.

He quickly picked up on the wheezes and found the inhaler near her head. He grabbed it and sprayed a shot of medicine into her mouth, quickly getting sucked in. He waited a few seconds for it to subside, giving a second shot when she seemed to still need it.

“Thanks...” She breathed, heartbeat finally slowing. She felt arms and tender kisses on her cheeks and attempted to lift her arms, but they were shaky and slow to respond. She felt his weight carefully settle over her torso, finally wrapping her arms around him. “Thank you Charles...”

He nuzzled her cheek with his nose, heart warming despite how his erection hadn't subsided much. “My pleasure Samara. Truly.”

He had said those same words over the phone, and she felt as guilty then as she did now for being the only one to get full enjoyment out of the experience. Her eyes opened as she let go, frowning his way. “No.” Her head shook. “It wasn't.”

A brow rose. “I don't understand.”

She slowly inched up to sit on her rear, hands clasping his shoulders. “It was amazing Charles and I'm grateful to you, really I am. But you didn't get anything out of it!”

A hand gently covered hers, heart swelling. He brought her knuckles to his lips, his free hand cradling her cheek. He didn't say anything for seconds, taking in the sadness that he didn't finish as well. “As I said earlier Bunty, there are many ways to receive and give pleasure. Just because I didn't climax as you did doesn't mean I was alone climbing that mountain with you.”

Her eyes jerked down, frowning. “Then why do you still look like that?”

He looked down, finding himself still erect under his boxer briefs. His head shook slowly. “This was about you Samara, not me. I never intended on doing anything like that with you. I didn't hope to wish for it.”

She blinked at the tears, making a few fall. She latched onto his neck before she could think, hugging him tightly. “Charles...you...perfect man you!” She squeezed him, face in his chest. She pinned his surprised eyes with agonizing ones. “You! How can you be so perfect?! I...just can't! I can't say how I feel! Thank you! Thank you so much!”

He couldn't keep his own tears at bay with the heartfelt words she assaulted him with. His jaw clenched before he gave in to the urge to capture her lips with his. She went willingly, trying to convey everything she couldn't say, couldn't find words. His hands gingerly cupped her chin and her heart somersaulted.

The angle she was leaning at was creating an ache in her back and before she cared to think of how it looked, she climbed into his lap and wrapped her legs around his waist again, squeezing him with every part of her body.

He was stunned into silence for a second, the rapid blinking at how brazen she was causing more tears to fall. It took all of a second for her warmth to transfer to him before his limbs snapped to and tightly wrapped around her. His heart beat so strangely in his chest and a feeling he thought that had long died sparked. It was like a match that stabilized after being lit. It was bright amongst the darkness, slowly burning. He pulled her back, cradling her face in his hands, thumbs going for her tears. “Samara...you...amazing woman.” He harshly swallowed, looking away.

She stared at his uncertainty, the rawness of his eyes. She had never seen tears and her hands rose to wipe them away as well. She pinned him with a sweet smile, his face wavering through more tears. “Charles...” She breathed, taking a deep breath for strength. “Today. With you. I want my first time with you. Please. I want you to please yourself with me.”

His mouth opened, words flying the other way. He quickly blinked, shaking his head. “It...may be painful Samara. I couldn't do that to you.”

She quickly kissed him. “You won't. I know you wouldn't allow yourself to. You've been so conscious of every need since you decided to help me. You've never overstepped your boundaries where I don't want you to. I know you wouldn't hurt me.”

He couldn't breathe properly. He dropped his head onto her shoulder and tried to draw air. It was shaky at best and he clutched her to him for stability. Despite how he had always tried to keep a cool head, walk his life on an even surface, she had broken the ground into a million pieces. He didn't know where he could tread and grabbed the only thing he could to find sanity.

She felt his shoulders shake a little, hand going through his hair to calm him. “I'll make it your decision Charles. I won't push you on this. You've given me the time and opportunity to make up my own mind on everything and I want to return the favor. If this is too much for you, we can stop.”

He took a deep breath, exhaling everything bad and tuning into her. To the one who never left him, who stuck with him through everything he put her through. The teasing, exercises, the laughter, the heat. She was still here, embracing him, inviting him in. He found he couldn't deny such a request. His eyes slowly opened and he searched her face for a spec of reluctance, but there was none. She smiled and nodded. “Alright.” He murmured, arms coming up to gently move her away.

She shuffled off his lap, watching in confusion as he went to a drawer and pulled out a small square. A brow went up, head tilting. “Charles? What's that?”

He looked to it, then her. “A condom for safety. I refuse to hurt you in any form.”

She smiled bashfully, looking to the hands in her lap. Her lips pressed together until there was a shifting on the edge of the mattress. She looked to him on his knees as he tossed it on the bed nearby and stared at her. He seemed a little different, but she couldn't put her finger on how. Words eluded her as she took him in.

She was fully naked and he let his eyes roam every curve his mouth had visited. She was absolutely beautiful and he couldn't keep quiet any longer. He shuffled toward her, hand floating out. “The last I heard from you, you merely called yourself 'pretty'. After today, I hope to enlighten you on how grossly incorrect you were.” His fingers skipped over a cheek, down her neck, passing a breast, and stopping on a thigh. He watched her shiver, but ignored it. “You are the most ravishing woman I've ever met and I hope I can make you see that...will feel that from here on out.”

Her face was hot, eyes wide and innocent. She moved back, his arms helping direct her to lay on the bed again. He hovered over her legs this time, still staring at her. The afternoon had finally grown late and shadows cast various parts over her body. “You're so...beautiful.”

Teeth bit her lip through a smile that refused to go away. She watched him straighten till he kneeled over her, a hand out. She took it, sitting up in front of him with curious eyes.

“If you would Samara.”

She gulped when her hands touched the waistband at his waist. She took a deep breath, heart pounding already, nodding a little as she shifted to mimic his pose. She slowly tugged his underwear to his knees, watching as he stepped from them and kicked them to the floor.

“Give me your hand.”

She slowly did as requested, jerking a little in shock when he helped wrap it around him. She stared, unable to tear her eyes away at the feel of it. “It's...” Her brow furrowed. “Strong. No, that's not right...” She looked at him. “I don't know what to do.” She looked away, embarrassed at her inexperience.

His free hand brought her face back to his, going through her hair. “I don't expect you to Samara. Just as you helped me, I'll help you.” He looked down, breathing out at the feel of her fingers around him, of his hand covering her. “Stroke like this.”

She watched in fascination, eyes going between his erection and his face. She kept moving when his hand let go. “Is...this okay?”

His eyes fluttered open, having closed the second she started working. “You're...doing good Samara...”

He wanted to let her keep doing that. There was an emotional back to the slow work she was doing and it was helping aide her slight clumsiness. But, while he would've loved to finish this way, she was allowing him to do something he didn't allow himself the pleasure of doing.

“That's...enough now.” He nearly panted. She had done enough to help put him back to where he was moments ago. He grabbed the square and rolled the condom up as far as it would go. “How about you? Do you need assistance?”

How could she turn down an invitation to return to where she had been again? She hadn't tried more than once and teeth bit her lip. She nodded a little, questioning herself and fidgeted a little.

He noticed and leaned closer. “Is something the matter Samara? If you don't wish to do this, please let me know and I'll bear you no ill will.”

“It's not that.” She quickly denied shaking her head. “I just don't know if I can do anything again. Can I? I've not tried it.”

She was adorable. He smiled and gently kissed her. “The female body is capable of multiple orgasms. You'll be fine. I won't leave you unsatisfied a second time. Lay down for me please.”

She did as commanded, feeling his body cover her and nudge in between her thighs. A leg gently pushed one aside as he settled in between and his mouth found hers.

It didn't take more than a few nudges against her inner thighs for her to start getting desperate. Her breathing picked back up to where it was when he lavished her skin with his tongue and the thought of minutes ago made her want it all over again. “Charles...” She breathed, head thrown back. She ached for him. “Please. It's...okay. I'm...okay. Please.”

He kept massaging a breast with his mouth, refusing to assume she was fine just yet. It had only been a few minutes and despite how her body might still be thrumming on low, he didn't want any twinge of pain. His conscious wouldn't allow for it.

She jerked again as he kept slowly rocking against her, barely passing inside, his mouth on her breasts. His hands slowly stroked her hair and it was all driving her mad. “Charles...Charles...” She panted, nails digging into his muscles. “Please! I need you! Please! It's okay, really!”

Her legs twirled and wrapped around his waist. She was wet enough for him to bury himself in one shot, but he was too unsure to do so. He slowly pushed past where he had gone before, hissing at the contact, even as she cried out. He withdrew and did it again, fighting the heels digging into his back, trying to make him comply with her silent demand.

Her hands lashed out and grabbed his hair, yanking him back and meeting stunned eyes. She glared at him. “Please Charles! Don't make me wait anymore! This is torture! Please...put it in already! I'm begging you!”

He instantly buried himself to the hilt at her words.

The pressure was different and odd. The breath hitched in her throat and she tensed, trying to draw air in past the slight grimace.

He refused to move even the tiniest part out until she was begging him to move like she was seconds ago. “I'm sorry.” He murmured, mouth going to her neck. He licked the spots he knew she liked, trying to draw out the stress. “I won't move again until you're okay to do so.”

The emptiness was gone in an instant and it felt strange, but kind of nice. He rapidly altered the state he put her in to the point that she needed him to move again. Her nails grasped at the slick skin on his back, sliding off and going back to grab for more. “Charles...M – more...please. I'm...okay now. Just...maybe...go slow.”

He complied, pulling out at a snail's pace and going back in just the same. She gave a moan of pleasure and he felt it was okay to try again. “Sa...mara...” He groaned, trying to keep himself at the pace she needed for now. “You feel so good...”

“Charles...yes...”

He leaned up and kissed her, swallowing every moan as he went in to the point that their hips met. Her legs squeezed around his, allowing prime access to get as deep as he could. He only managed a few more slow, torturous thrusts before his brain snapped and he gave in to what his body demanded.

When he sped up, her back arched against him. “Yes! Ah!” She gasped. “Charles...j – just in case...ah! Grab my...inhaler...”

He found it within arm's reach and set it next to her head. “Good thinking Bunty. Because I don't want to hold back anymore.”

She nodded, crying out as he somehow contorted his spine to reach a breast and keep moving. He went quicker, harder, as deep as he could. At length, one of her hands floated down to the gap between her legs and rubbed.

She broke herself mere seconds later.

“Faster!” She cried out, head arched back. “Yes! Charles! More! Please! Ah god!”

He sat up and drove into her, grasping her hips for leverage. He watched her bounce, the erotica of her orgasm taking hold of his and shoving it in his face. His body tightened and his nails dug into her skin. “S..Samara!”

She watched him jerk, head down, teeth bared and clenched tight. It was hard over the thrill in her veins, but a thought in her head struck her conscious.

'You did this to him. You made him feel this. Look at him. Look at all of it.'

She stared, fingers releasing as he also slowed down, hands near her shoulders to prop himself up. He gasped for breath, but he was the most beautiful man she had ever known. She was happy that he was her first everything and she wouldn't trade it for anything. She sat up, feeling a little sore, but bypassed it. She wrapped her arms around him and a shaky one responded.

“Thank you Samara.” He murmured, lips on her shoulder.

“I should be thanking you.” She pulled away, soft smile on her face. “Thank you for giving me something I'll never forget.”

He couldn't find any other words to pair with what she had said and thus took her face in his hand and kissed her. “Instead of trying to outdo you, I'll merely say you're welcome and extend an invitation to cuddle in a second.”

She watched him get off the bed and head into his bathroom. He returned a second later and sat at the headboard, pulling some of the blankets back. She smiled when he looked at her, brows going up in question. She shuffled underneath, leaning on a strong shoulder and feeling his hand rest over her hip. Her hand flattened over his heart. “You're a good person Charles.” She mumbled.

His jaw clenched and he tried to keep his breathing even. He blinked rapidly as his vision wavered. The hand on her hip left to brush through her hair, slowly picking up a chunk and letting it fall before doing it again. He couldn't speak for a moment and he was thankful she didn't continue her attack. But, he couldn't let him leave it at that. “Thank you Bunty. I appreciate it.”

Her brow furrowed at the strange tone in his voice and she sat up. Her eyes widened to find his eyes swimming and a hand came up, palm against his face as if she could wipe his upset away. “Charles. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I just -” Teeth bit her lip in indecision. “You're just...amazing. I can't find any better words. I don't care what you say about yourself; I refuse to believe any of it. I'm tired of people putting you down when they don't see what I see.” She gently kissed his forehead with a smile. “A kind man who treats those important to him with the utmost respect.”

His chin wobbled just a little. He quickly sat up, abashed that her words were burrowing into his ears instead of rolling off his back. He tried to take deep breaths and calm himself, but her arms encircled his stomach, head on his back. The arm resting over his knee quickly moved to cover his eyes. No matter how much air he took in through his nose it wasn't enough and he inhaled a shaky breath, giving away a chunk of his distress.

“It's okay Charles. I'm here.” She breathed, heart going out to him. She heard the hitch in his breath, the unsteady intake. “I'll hold you for as long as you want. I'll be here for you just like you were there for me all of those times. I won't judge you and I won't care.” Her eyes peeked open. “Go ahead and cry. You'll feel better afterward.”

His jaw clenched, but the tears refused to stay behind the damn she had blown a hole in. He gasped air, feeling the warmth of her skin against his. She didn't say another word, didn't move, just stayed like a rock. The woman who was often so emotional was switching places as he broke down, yet unable to face her with his tears.

She let him get it all out, wondering when the last time he was able to cry. When did he allow himself the time or the opportunity? She felt bad, betting after his divorce he would've been scared to try again. From what he was ready to setup with her, a physical relationship with no emotional strings attached, she figured he did that to save himself from feeling that heartache again. She wanted to squeeze him to give him the courage to face the next day and the day after that without locking away his heart.

It was cathartic, the ability to shed tears. Had he done so himself, he would've capped it off much sooner than with her arms around him. It was like raging rapids pushing him along and he couldn't help himself when he was with her. She instigated things in him that he kept from himself, even in the safety of his own place.

It felt like forever until he got control over everything. He wiped his face dry and craned his head back, feeling it ache from everything. He stared across the room idly, feeling...lighter somehow. He only felt able to move when his breathing slowed, his eyes stopped watering, and the sorrow finished leaking from him. The hand covering his face took up its new position over hers. “Thank you...Bunty... I am in your debt.”

Her head moved from his back, fingers letting go when he shifted. His eyes were red, but there was the barest of smiles on his face. She painted on a larger smile than she felt, brows upward. “Would you like another hug?”

He considered it, but thought of a better idea. “Could you lay down for me? I promise it's not for that.”

She did as requested, curious as to what he wanted from her. His head soon found a comfortable position on her chest, arms helping to prop him up just a little to keep from crushing her. He rested over her, but this time it was for pure touch than erotic need. Teeth lightly bit her lip as one hand went to his hair, the other on his back. “Will you...be okay?” She hedged, staring at the evening pouring in through the windows.

'No' was ready to be spouted, but as long as she kept holding him 'yes' could counter it. “I will be.” He mumbled, nuzzling her breasts just a little. “Just keep this up. Your arms provide more comfort than you know.” He hummed at the fingers in his hair. “So ample and cozy...”

She tapped his back with her fingertips, hearing the typical tease in his voice. “You! You're incorrigible.”

He chuckled, feeling better at their usual banter. Despite laying naked with her, on her bare body, having had what he would deem fairly amazing sex in who knew how long, he grabbed hold of how they acted in the office. “If I fall asleep like this, would you be cross with me?”

She heard him yawn a second later and followed suit. “Ugh, stop that. Seeing or hearing someone yawn always makes me too.”

He chuckled again. “Am I too heavy for you? I can move.”

“No. This is nice. I've never done this before.”

“I can't find a recent time when I have either.”

He was talking about others he had slept with aside her. It burned her brain, but she was scared to ask for a few moments. “Charles...can I ask what you mean by that? I know about Eva...is there...someone else too?”

His brain remembered she was speaking through the steady thump that was quickly relaxing his ear. He didn't have to give anything else and could've left it at who she knew, but he didn't want to hide it from her. “There is one other, but she works in our building and I won't incriminate her. She and Eva were it though.” He sighed, thinking to all of the encounters with Rosewood that meant much less than half of his time with Samara today. “But...by now she'd be gone. She considered it a deed. Nothing like what you gave me today. The fact that you're still here says more than you think it will. I thank you again...for everything.”

She felt special at his words. “I would never use you for anything and leave you Charles. That's wrong. I can't speak for those other women, but like I've said so many times before...you've given me so much. There is so much I wish to repay you with. Something like this isn't a repayment, but more of what you've helped me with.”

Her words could easily incite more tears, but he was too tired to let them out. He squeezed her a little, finding skin and kissing it in affection. “You're precious Bunty. In everything you do. I hope you realize that.” He yawned again. “If I fall asleep on you, I apologize.”

She yawned as well. “No...I think I might before you do. Not moving and petting your hair is really relaxing...”

His lips tilted. “Sleep then Bunty. I'll be here when you wake up. We'll figure that hour out when it gets here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone left alive? X3


	22. midnight snacktime rendevous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those words were like a cold bucket of water enough to make him realize the danger he was about to put her in. He sat up, trying to catch his breath as he stared at her ample chest heave. "Not like this." He rasped, extending a hand. "I'll not rut you like some animal on the floor. My apologies."

She didn't know what time it was when her eyes peeked open, but it was still dark outside. Her stomach was screaming at her for ignoring it. She groaned and rubbed her eyes, rolling over and sitting up.

The cold that hit her reminded her she was entirely naked.

Her head whipped around, finding Charles facing away from her, chest slowly rising. She gave him a soft look for moments before shuffling off the bed and rounding it to face him.

'He looks so peaceful. And adorable. And handsome.' Her fingers itched to go through his hair and she gave in after a second. She carefully brushed a few small chunks that were over his nose out of the way. He twitched and she withdrew, sitting on her legs as she took the time to admire the sense of innocence.

"Thank you. You have a beautiful soul Charles." She whispered.

Her stomach protested loudly and she clamped hands over it, hoping he didn't hear.

Food. She needed food. She recalled that they hadn't made time to eat the takeout from the aquarium and if she was lucky, it would be just as good cold. She stood and looked to her nudity. 'Bra and underwear. Where could you be?'

She should've felt much more humiliated at the thought of having to locate her undergarments in a place that wasn't hers, but she didn't. Maybe because yesterday had been a long time in coming, or the fact that it was Charles's place, or the fact that she had already slept in his bed, or the emotional connection after such intimacy. It was comfortable, like being in her own apartment. She smiled and tried to use the city lights below and poor moonlight to find everything. He had been through a lot, whatever it was which he never elaborated about, and she didn't want to wake him up.

After countless minutes of quietly hunting around for bra, panties, and glasses, she remembered she left her dress downstairs in the heat of the moment. She rolled her eyes at her behavior, sneaking downstairs to let him sleep. There was plenty of light coming in from the city below and she easily spied the garment hanging onto part of the eatery area.

So was his sweater.

She grinned and grabbed it. His cologne met her nose and she stuck the low neckline in her face. It smelled like him and she found the clothing was way too big on her. She pulled the arms up a little, tried to adjust the excessive cleavage line, then headed for the fridge.

Never before had a burger sounded more appetizing than now. She hunted through cupboards for a plate, separating the meat as best she could from the bun and stuck it in the microwave. She hoped the fries weren't too nasty and opened a fridge door to see if there was ketchup.

She shut the fridge door and found she wasn't alone.

She shrieked and stumbled back, arms flailing for stability and caught herself in his outstretched hand and the wall.

He took in the wide eyes, heaving chest that almost showed her bra, and his sweater from today. She looked very adorable in his clothes and he smiled at the fact that he didn't know who looked better. "So this is where you ended up Bunty."

She quickly righted herself and straightened the sweater. "I didn't want to wake you." She mumbled, turning at the ding from the microwave. "My stomach was trying to snack on my spine so I thought I'd appease it."

He took in the plate and mentally connected the dots with the noises he heard that jostled him from sleep. He mentally scoffed at his paranoia of finding the bed empty and that she had snuck out while he was asleep. 'Fool.' He harshly chastised. 'Did her words and that hug mean nothing?'

He set the plate on the counter and took her in his arms. "No harm done Samara. I believe I'll join you."

She felt skin and looked to the open, long-sleeved shirt he had on. He had the wherewithal to put his underwear back on as well, which was probably better on her sexual nerves. She didn't want to go from a prude to jumping him at every possible moment. Although with the loose hair, muscles in the dark, and kind look, doing that again didn't sound like a bad idea.

She mentally slapped herself.

'Focus! Food! It's already...what time is it anyway?' She looked over and found it skipping past ten thirty. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

"Ooohhh no! No no no!"

He watched her practically dive around the kitchen for her dress and fish out her phone. A brow went up in confusion and concern at the change of demeanor. "Is there a problem Samara?"

"Bowser!" She blurted out, holding the phone to her ear. "Thank god she stays up late. Please pick up...please!" Teeth bit her lip as the phone rang twice more before being connected. "Mrs. Whipple! I'm so sorry to bother you right now! If there any way you can watch Bowser for me?! I'm -" Her face whipped Charles's way as she fumbled for words. "U – unable to make it back right now. I haven't been home all day and I hope he hasn't done anything on the carpet." Her face lit up, feeling relief. "You can?! Oh thank you so much! Uh...tonight?" Her eyes darted between Charles and the floor. "I d – don't know. Maybe? Honestly...I don't think so. I'm so sorry to put you out like this. You're the best. Thank you so much!"

He watched her heave a sigh and slump against the counter. "Do you need to tend to your dog? I apologize for putting the poor guy out."

Her head shook before she tossed her phone on the dress crumple. "No. It's okay. Mrs. Whipple has a set of emergency keys and she can get to Bowser. I bought her some pee pads should something like this ever happen again so she doesn't need to take him outside in the dark."

A brow rose. "Again?"

She stopped in front of him and accepted the return to his hold. "Dad once took the whole family out for dinner after mom got back from a long trip, but I don't think I got home till around nine-thirty. That's way too late for Bowser to hold it and I learned that day how great of a person my landlady is."

He was glad she had a support line. She deserved it. A hand idly rubbed part of her back as the conversation went through his head. "And what did you mean when you mentioned 'tonight'?"

She buried her face in his chest as it heated. "Well...I..." She cleared her throat and mentally told herself to stop being mortified at telling him what was on her mind when he asked and had now seen her entire body. Really, there should be few rules after tonight. "Didn't feel like going home." She looked up. "I think I'd be lonely if I did."

His face heated and he was happy it was dark enough to hide it. He couldn't hide the smile on his face though. "I...agree Samara. I find that I can't let you out of my arms just yet."

She giggled a little and nuzzled his chest with her forehead. "Well, now that we know that, the question now is: does your sandwich heat as well as mine does in the microwave?"

"One way to find out." He let go of her and grabbed the plastic bag from the fridge, copying her and separated everything before depositing it inside to heat.

She grabbed the plate and pulled out a chair, crying out when the sink light suddenly came on. "Ow! Warn a girl Charles!"

"My apologies Bunty. I figured you'd want light to eat with." He mused.

"Yea. Just a five second heads up so I can cover my eyes next time."

He pointedly refused to mention anything about those last two words and went to snag his plate. He put everything back together and set it on the glass surface next to her. "How is yours?" He queried, taking an experimental bite of his.

"This is so good! And not just because I'm starving."

"I have heard that hunger is the best spice."

"It's going to be for these fries, that's for sure." She mumbled, nose crinkling a little.

He chuckled and snatched one. "Now, now, they can't be all that bad." It didn't take more than three chews to see how wrong he was. "I stand corrected."

She twirled the plate so he didn't have to reach entirely over hers. "Here. A little ketchup helps the medicine go down."

He chuckled and utilized it on the other half. Once he finished the rest of the only fry he dared, he leaned over and gave a quick kiss on her head. "You're refreshingly adorable Bunty."

Her face heated and the burger rested in her mouth at the sudden affection. She quickly swallowed the food before choking on it again and making an idiot out of herself. "How so?"

"Despite your personal growth and increasing openness over the last few weeks, you have definitely are in top form right now."

"Well...I guess there's no point in being shy at this point with us being half naked right now." She mumbled around the burger. "It seems kind of silly to be awkward around you now."

"On the contrary, that is one of the usual reactions." He quietly responded, a deep frown stealing his appetite.

She eyed the shadows on his face, took in the sudden frown that spoke of things she would probably never know. There was a history there that he might tell if she asked him, but she honestly didn't care. She had heard about his ex-wife and other women and that was enough for her. While backstory would help her understand his quirks, she didn't want to define him by his interactions with others. Even if it molded his personality, he didn't go by those bad experiences with her.

She put a hand on his and smiled when he looked at her. "Well...I think our work history together helped out. And we both knew we wanted...that anyway. Plus, you're too special to me to push you away after something like like that."

He was kissing her before he could think. When she said such things that inflated his heart, how could he not?

He was gentle, yet insistent. His hands practically swallowed her lower face as he arched her face to his. She ached for him with such ministrations, feeling her heart flutter in her chest.

He pulled away and rested his forehead on hers, thumbs rubbing her cheeks. "What am I to do with you Bunty when you say things like that?"

She grinned. "I've got more if you'd like."

He pulled away at the tone, finding that mischievous spark alluring. "Despite how much my curiosity would like to hear it, I don't think I could hold out if you said anything more."

A brow went up. Maybe she should hurry and eat and then see just what he meant. If one sentence had him kissing her, egging him on with praises would definitely be in her favor.

"So...what's the plan? It's late and I'm not tired in the slightest. I guess that's what happens when I get exhausted and sleep earlier than I usually do..."

He found the stove clock, finding it around eleven. At the prospect of wanting her to stay, she had no toiletries here and while she could use his if she wanted, she had no change of clothes. "I know you said you didn't wish to return home, but that is always a possibility if you wish."

He didn't sound convincing in the slightest. She licked salt off her fingers and stood to wash the plate. She dried it and put it back in the cupboard as she heard the clack of his in the sink. She leaned against the counter with crossed arms as he rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher. "I already made plans so I don't have to worry about that." She smirked. "Besides, there's something I'd rather do much more."

He wiped his hands on the towel as he stared at her. The tone had his curiosity and hesitation burning. "Such as?"

She grinned and stopped in front of him, taking his hands in hers. "Did you know that I admired you while you were sleeping?" She watched a brow go up. "And I called you a beautiful soul. Because you are." She brought her lips to his hands to her lips and peppered his knuckles with kisses.

He flushed, heart dancing around at whatever she was attempting. It was a fight not to pull his hands away. "I...appreciate the words Samara."

"Do you know how adorable and innocent you are when you sleep?" She continued. She grinned up at him, seeing his flushed face in the poor light. "I could've just sat and stared at how perfect you are like that."

"Samara, what are you doing?"

"She brushed her hands up his torso. "Thanks for leaving the shirt open by the way. I get to be reminded of how gorgeous you are from the neck down too."

"Sama -"

"Course you're physical appearance is only an addition to how kind and considerate you are." Her arms went around his waist. "How intelligent and crafty. How thoughtful to others. How -"

He couldn't take it anymore and hoisted her up over his shoulder. "Please Bunty. Spare me further self-consciousness! I can't take it anymore."

She giggled and watched the kitchen disappear for the living room. "Aww. Is that the problem? You can't take a compliment? Or are you not used to people giving them to you?" She looked down. "Nice ass. I believe I said that already though. I won't slap it again unless you want me to. Just say the word. I don't mind."

His face felt like the temperature of the sun. He jostled her on his shoulder a little, getting more laughter. It made him lighter when he realized she was doing this on purpose. The sudden play that she never felt comfortable with was nice and the charisma she had always tucked away brought out a need to respond in kind.

He was quickly getting addicted to it.

"I forgot to mention that you're pretty strong to handle little old me on those stairs earlier. Is it all that fencing or are you naturally this muscular?"

He held her in his living room, not sure what he could do to stop with all the sudden praise she seemed to enjoy throwing at him and was more than he could take. "Are you intending on continuing this?" He asked, brow up. He couldn't get the grin off his face.

"Hmm. What else? Oh yes. Your 'lessons' were top notch. I appreciate all of the help. Those porn videos certainly don't give as good of info as you do. You certainly know what you're doing."

His free hand came up and tickled the back of a thigh and she squealed, flailing and kicking her legs. "While I enjoy the banter, you certainly don't need to keep repeating yourself. I get it. You may stop."

"You're a really great communicator at work too. Those team meetings are really beneficial. Very charismatic when you give those presentations. You're the best boss."

"B – Bunty..." He playfully warned. He tickled her again, suddenly knowing she wasn't going to quit. He slid her down his chest, not doing them any favors with that movement. "Two can play this game you know."

"I've got more to throw at you than you can sling back at me Charles."

He smirked. "Is that so? I highly doubt that I can compare to such a considerate, drop dead gorgeous, and kind woman. One who thinks of others before herself and is so sacrificing that it puts her at a disadvantage in life." He took in the humble grin, but brushed his hands up her arms and brought his mouth close to her ear. "A person who takes on even the most mediocre tasks without complaint and is helpful to others once her own work is done. That's mvp employee behavior most employers would fight over."

She shivered at the sultry tone in his voice. She mentally jerked back, refusing to quit. While she just wanted to see him squirm with all the good he refused to see, this was becoming too fun to stop. "That...kind of voice is n – nice too." She stumbled. Her hands reached out and lightly grasped his shirt. "You can read to me out of the phone book anytime you want."

"I think I'd prefer hearing you cry out my name on the phone. That was much more pleasurable."

She licked her lips, head arching back when hos teeth latched onto her lobe. "And you're...really good at that." She panted. "You know...all of my buttons already..."

He moved back to stare at her. "Shall I push a few of them again for you?"

"How...considerate of you, Charles... Please do."

He picked her up the same way as he did a few minutes ago and in a few steps deposited her on a chair. He kneeled down and tugged his sweater past her breasts, hands roaming her stomach. "Your curves are exquisite. I could try to find every nook and cranny all day and not be done." A finger hooked under the center of her bra and pulled it up. "And your breasts are perfect." A hand cradled one as his head lowered. "Perfect size for my hands."

"You...do have...large hands..." She rasped, fingers in his locks. "And your hair is so soft."

"Do you have the energy to handle this again Bunty? It is late."

"If you stop now I might just kill you."

He laughed, fingers going much further south until she cried out. "Not if I don't do so first. Perhaps it's not a bad way to go though?"

She couldn't form words. His mouth licked south and moved her underwear to the side, fingers moving inside her. "Ah! Yes, Charles! You're just...so good...at that! I just...like it... Ah! When you move...like that."

"You haven't given up yet on that?" His voice was low, sultry. "I expected you to be incapable of rational thought by now."

"In your dreams...Jones!" She quickly sat up and brushed his hands away. He stumbled back on his rear and she took that second to attack.

He gasped at the hand fumbling past his underwear, finding his erection. His teeth grit as she moved, blood boiling. "M...minx." He panted, fists digging nails into his skin. "You'll not...best me. Unnff."

"Is this going to be a contest of wills?" She smirked, watching his face.

A hand whipped out and found her thighs, going as far in as he could get for the angle she was sitting. She cried out and her hand clenched around him and pushed down hard. "Sa...mara..."

"I hope...ah! I can...meet your expectations. Ung! But you'd tell me...right?"

He shifted, briskly moving her to the floor on pure instinct and covered his body over hers. "You do a wonderful job Bunty..." He rubbed himself over her underwear. "It's almost...too much. I lose control...around you."

Her legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his back. "Don't tease me!" She begged. "I know what...you feel like now and...I need you! I'll be ok, so please!"

Those words were like a cold bucket of water enough to make him realize the danger he was about to put her in. He sat up, trying to catch his breath as he stared at her ample chest heave. "Not like this." He rasped, extending a hand. "I'll not rut you like some animal on the floor. My apologies."

She sat up, body still humming. "Think you could handle another trip up to your bed?" Her arms went around his shoulders. "I really enjoyed the first go up."

His grin turned evil. "I do believe I may be able to figure out something beneficial for the two of us."

In a second he had hoisted her up with his hands on her backside, one had moving his erection up against his stomach and bounced her against it.

She thought she was going to fall. It was hard to keep a good grip on his shoulders with every step rubbing the most sensitive spot. "Charles...you...you're incorrigible."

"I can be more so." He nearly purred, voice smooth and deeper than usual. He easily adjusted the span of his fingers and traveled as well as he could inside her.

She cried out. "That! Charles! Ah...yes! God! Don't...fall...on the stairs!"

He didn't intend to, although he needed to go much slower as he was causing them both more problems by not waiting until they were upstairs. Sweat broke out on his brow as he was unable to keep control. He managed to reach the top floor without incident and focused on his fingers and tried to arch his hips into hers. The noises were delicious and he spared a second to unravel her even further.

"You sound so good Bunty...that I got carried away..." He panted. Her breasts scraped his chest as he let her down and he shivered a little. His hands found her nipples and rotated them, his mouth covering hers. He inched her back until she cried out and toppled onto his bed when her legs found the mattress.

She sat up and yanked on his underwear, not caring that she shocked him at such brazen behavior. He had put the stove on high and she was boiling over. "You won't...need these..." She mumbled, hand grasping him and moving.

He could've fallen over. He gulped air, fists clenching at a need to delve into her hair. There was an insane need to touch her back, but he didn't want her to stop.

“Well Mr. Jones...is this up to your satisfaction?”

His eyes opened with difficulty and he looked to the smirk. He almost growled as he leaned down, seeing her eyes widen in anticipation as she crawled up the bed backwards.

“Dear Miss Young,” He murmured, slowly stalking around her body, “if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were playing with me.” His head lowered and attacked a nipple with the same vigor she had shown him.

She cried out, hands clutching at his hair to keep him there. “How about...you work on...the rest of these clothes? They're in our way.”

In less than a minute, all of their underwear was back on the floor in some new location. He leaned over to grab another square wrapper out of his drawer and opened it.

“Rushing things Mr. Jones?”

His fingers pinched a nipple, getting a cry. “I believe you're ready to boil over at this point Miss Young.” He finished situating himself and nudged her legs widen. “I'd hate for you to come before I can feel you tighten around me.”

Her back arched his way as he entered her. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he moved with much more speed than his initial hesitance. There were no rules, no fear, no worry. He had taken all precautions and knew she would be okay.

There had never been such a playful, lighthearted, erotic situation as he was experiencing. They went back and forth from joking around to turning each other on, to the thick of it. There was so much more than just sex and it settled in his brain when they finished gasping each other's names.

“Well...done...Mr. Jones...” She rasped, getting another shot of medicine with his help. She took one more before taking the inhaler from him and letting her arm flop on the bed behind her. “Thanks. I...needed that.”

He stared at the hooded eyes, open mouth, heaving chest, and expanse of skin. “I think I may be almost obsessed with you Samara.” He partially kidded, leaning down to rub his nose against her jaw. “I can't seem to keep my hands off you. Any part of you.”

She giggled when he hit a ticklish spot in her neck and kicked her legs under his. “Stop that! You know how bad I am!”

His grin was lethal. “Is that so? Is that a challenge?”

“Charles!” She burst into squeals a second later, his hands lightly sweeping around her ribcage enough to incite the nerves around it. Her arms fumbled for his hands, but he was much stronger than her and pinned most of her on his bed. “S – stop! Don't m – make me...pee the bed!”

“Perish the thought Bunty.” He halted at that, feeling her lungs heave and looked to her inhaler. “Do you need more medici – ah!”

She took his redirected concentration to her advantage and went for the sensitive spots high on his arms. She should've thought more as he almost crashed on top of her, but the laughter he finally gave was too amazing to pass up.

“S – Samara! Stop please!”

She grinned and twisted around his hands. “Oh? Can't handle ah ha ha...a taste of your own medic – ah ha ha!”

He was stronger and his limbs longer, but she was quicker at close range being much shorter. She was able to keep up with him, twisting out from his hold and making him jerk around enough until she pinned him with her legs.

His stomach hurt, but he honestly didn't know when he last had the chance to laugh like this. It was exhausting yet delightful. He released his attempt to stop her as he tried to catch his breath and watched her arm move to a different part on the bed. He watched her take a few more puffs, taking in every minute detail.

Absolutely ethereal. Was there a more perfect woman who was fit for him?

He blinked, sobering faster than if she had dumped ice water on his chest.

“Okay. Game over.” She broke in with a smile. “Shall we call this a draw?”

He was taken from the thought to her gorgeous form and shoved it into the background. He didn't want to ruin such a glorious evening, probably the best he'd had in a long time, with silly thoughts.

He slowly sat up and looked to the night sky above his bed, wondering just how late it was. “Perhaps we should see about getting to sleep. It's got to be close to midnight or past.”

She nodded and looked to the pillows. She scooted up and pulled the covers back, looking to him when a thought struck. “Is it going to be safer if I have clothes on?”

He stared at the curve of her waist, breasts, and mentally agreed. He smiled and shifted off the bed for his closet. “While I don't have a problem cuddling next to a beautiful naked woman, I will agree with your comment Bunty.” He handed a shirt and bottoms over, watching her put the shirt on. He chuckled when she couldn't keep the pants on. “Perhaps we'll have to share.”

She handed the pants back and watched him put them on, but it did nothing to hide how handsome and chiseled he was. Teeth bit her lip and she rolled her eyes at her own behavior. 'Go to sleep already! This makes it...what...three times in only one day?! You're not going for some kind of record here!'

She looked really good in his shirt and he didn't know if it was better than seeing her without anything. The tease of her thighs with the hem, covering where he had been minutes ago, was a dangerous combination. Then she disappeared under the covers and saved his sanity.

He climbed into his usual spot, resting on his side to face her. She smiled when his hand came out and lightly stroked her hair. She didn't want to break the comfortable silence over them, but she blurted out what was on her mind without wondering how it sounded. “I feel like Alice in Wonderland.”

He kept brushing his fingers through her hair, brow furrowing a little in bemusement. “How so?”

She snuggled under the blanket a little more, finding his feet and entwining their ankles. “I don't think I've ever had a more magical time than today. Has it only been one day since you came to my place? It feels like a million years has passed. I don't want tomorrow to come and change this. I just want to stay in the rabbit hole forever.”

His face softened, hand moving to her cheek. “I think I know what you mean. I don't think I've spend a more enjoyable Saturday. It seems to have been a long, eventful day. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“That's...my line.” She lamely cracked, eyes tearing. Her chin wobbled a little.

He caught one before it could get too far, brushing the other one away that had pooled in the corner. His hand only stopped its movements when hers came out of the covers to clutch it, snuggling it against her face. “Do you think you'll be able to sleep tonight? I understand that the earlier nap could be problematic.”

“I...I don't want to go to sleep.” She looked to the covers, brows furrowing up. “I just want to lay here with you, holding your hand, looking into your eyes, looking at your smile.”

His face warmed, lips going higher. “As much as I would agree Samara, tomorrow is almost upon us and you need your rest.” He rolled over and flicked off the light, but the moon above still allowed him to see most of her features by being so close. “Close your eyes now. I'll brush your hair until you fall asleep.”

He must have done so for what felt like fifteen minutes. He listened to her breathing slow and her face relax. His hand still didn't stop.

“Thank you.” He whispered, voice barely there. He stared at her face and closed lids. “Thank you for being here with me after everything. For making me laugh. For making me smile. For the play. The...heat. For giving yourself to me. For letting me guide you. For always being beside me. You have no idea what it means to me.”

His hand finally moved and wiped his tears before telling himself he was going to be a grouch in the morning if he didn't rest. He exhaled a deep sigh, feeling relaxation cover him as a second blanket.

“Yur...wel...come...”

His eyes shot open and widened, a small amount of adrenaline hitting him.

Her lids opened with difficulty and blinked until she managed to make them find his. She gave a sleepy smile, kissing the hand she still had.

His face flamed, awkwardness hitting him. “Y – you weren't meant...to hear that...” He mumbled, looking away.

“I'm glad I did.” She let go of his hands and lifted the blanket when a thought struck her. “Roll away from me, would you?”

A brow went up, but he did as directed and the blanket flopped back over a second later. Followed by her arms around his torso.

His heart jumped around the room, neck tingling when her lips met it. He tried to crane his eyes over a shoulder, not wanting to shift more than that. “Samara?”

“Thank you for letting me tickle you. I like hearing you laugh. I realized it's probably the first time I've heard that much of a happy sound come from you. Thank you for giving in and taking my first time. I'm honored. Thank you for being my boss, my friend, and now this. Whatever it is...I don't care. I just want to enjoy this time with you as much as I can. Thank you Charles.”

How many more tears was she going to incite in him? He took a slow breath, not wanting to weep. His free hand wiped his face, the other entwining their fingers. “Thank you Samara...thank you...”

“Good night Charles. I'll be here in the morning. Let's not leave Wonderland just yet. We have more time, so let's make it count.”

“I agree. Sleep well Bunty.”


	23. back to reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last week, he would've never thought he would be so smitten with her, ready to give her anything she wanted merely at a bat of her lashes. Her personality took him over and had chained him up in a place he was warm and comfortable in, but he didn't want to leave it for the world. It was a place he had once forsaken years ago, only to find it much better decorated with her spirit and an open door he could leave whenever he wanted.

The morning peeked through the windows as it always did. He had always been a morning person, probably because his job was stereotypical nine to five and he needed to get up a few hours earlier to get things ready for the day. Lately the sun had been coming around seven, or so he gauged. 'One of these days, I'll need to put an actual alarm clock in here.' His head craned up, knowing his phone was maybe still in his pants somewhere on the floor. He should probably get it and see what time it was. He was kind of hungry and she would be as well when she awoke.

Except there was no way he could easily get up with her arms still around him.

Her hold was light, warm, soft. He tuned in to the skin touching him, to the pajama sleeve that was too wide for her slender arms and had hiked up sometime in the night. Her chest was up against his and he felt her slow breathing on his back. Her breathing could have tickled his skin had it been able to go any faster.

His heart could explode. Yesterday seemed like a dream or fantasy, but still something he could never conjure. He let his mind wander all the way back to his entrance in her apartment and how worked up she had been even then. More days before to that fateful phone call which probably put them here right now. It was so strange how things transpired up to the current second.

He had admired her for a while, at least after his initial opinion changed, and more-so now than before he was glad she thought higher of herself. He kept repeating the same pitiful words that still didn't properly describe how breathtaking she was. He felt like he had said 'beautiful', 'amazing', and 'exquisite' so many times that they were old and boring. He needed to get a dictionary and find more fitting synonyms which bequeathed the sheer magnitude of her inner beauty.

He had never been held by another woman like this. He knew she must have meant it as a comforting means, but it was really nice. He was usually the one to do the holding, if at all. Rosewood never stuck around long enough for her breathing to get back to normal and Eva was not that type of an extensive cuddler. Gwen? After a while, she rolled over to her side of the bed and refused to sleep that close to him. Had he read between the lines more in his infantile love obsession, he would've known exactly what that meant.

He mentally shook his head, berating himself for letting his mind wander there. It did no good to compare her to other women because she was in a league of her own. She wasn't anywhere near their equal because her personality was different, as were her mannerisms. And they were more than refreshing to his starved soul.

It was perhaps the hand of fate that had dealt her such a sheltered life and kept her available all this time. She had been molded into the sweetest, most caring, and helpful individual. He wasn't used to it in the beginning, wouldn't let himself get used to it, but now he didn't think he could do without. Had she been more adventurous in the world, she would've been snatched up by the next man available who also saw all of her good qualities and she wouldn't be here now. He supposed he should count himself lucky.

The sun rose to show enough details on the far wall from the bed and he decided he had spent plenty of time lounging. He focused on the object of his thoughts and carefully plucked the sleeve up, raising her arm up at a snail's pace to keep her in dreamland. When he was safe enough to move, he practically crawled out of the covers and just as gently lowered her arm to the spot he had been taking up. He eyed her face for any signs of waking, but found none.

Now done, he should've stood and thrown a shirt on for the chill, but found himself rooted to the spot as he watched her. She looked so peaceful and it was hard to resist the urge to run his fingers through her hair.

'What have you done to me, Bunty?'

Last week, he would've never thought he would be so smitten with her, ready to give her anything she wanted merely at a bat of her lashes. Her personality took him over and had chained him up in a place he was warm and comfortable in, but he didn't want to leave it for the world. It was a place he had once forsaken years ago, only to find it much better decorated with her spirit and an open door he could leave whenever he wanted.

As if.

He smiled and shook his head at his own behavior. 'Breakfast. Get up and go do something productive.' His brain was already trying to imagine all of the items in his fridge that sounded good, attempting to figure out what she preferred. Knowing her, she would gush over anything he made and thank him for it all the same which was nice, but he wanted to try. She made him want to try.

He rummaged for a plain t-shirt and threw it on, quickly heading to take out his contacts and relieve his poor eyes. He left them out, remembering how she once commented that he looked good in glasses. She had done so much for him up until now and if she liked him in glasses, he would wear glasses.

He knew he should shower, but he would figure the day out after breakfast once she awoke. He silently clicked the bathroom door shut and found her still out. 'Sleep well Bunty. If you're not awake when things are ready, I'll play the prince to kiss the princess awake.'

His lips tilted slightly, heart thumping at the image.

He headed to the kitchen, pulling out butter, eggs, scallions, potatoes, bell peppers, and cream. He snagged pepper, salt, and garlic salt from the cupboards and set it all on the counter. It took all of a few minutes of pondering just how much she may eat and figured if he over-made anything that she could take it with her whenever she left.

A few pans went on the burners on low to heat slowly. Chunks of butter went inside to melt without burning as he cracked eggs in a cup and stirred them around, carefully pouring some cream in as well to help fluff up the eggs. Once the butter was ready, he dumped the three into the pan and repeated the same thing for himself for later.

He let the heat do its job and turned to cut up scallions and a few peppers. He sprinkled the scallions on the eggs, eying the beginning edges of the omelet before turning to dice up hashbrown ingredients. He dumped the entire cutting board of potatoes and peppers in the pan, turning everything to coat it with butter, garlic salt, and pepper. A lid went on the hashbrowns, the eggs finally ready to be flipped. He rolled the omelet with precision, giving it a few more moments before sliding it onto a plate. He added more butter and waited for that to melt as he stuck the first in the microwave to keep warm. He stirred the hashbrowns, flipping her omelet and turning the burner off once it was done. The hashbrowns went on the side of each plate, the second burner shut off.

'Ah...coffee.' He turned to the small appliance and filled the pot with water, hoping that whatever he had was sufficient. Course, the last time she had coffee here, she didn't complain about it. 'As if she ever does about much.' He mused with a smile. The percolator finished up and he poured them each a cup, bringing everything to the table and finalizing placement. He was finishing the silverware when the sound of a yawn had him whipping around.

"I thought I smelled coffee..."

He smiled and took in how adorable she was with his shirt covering her entire torso and peeking just past her upper thighs to tease him if she so wanted. "Good morning Bunty." He passed the cup, handle out for her to take and tried not to burn himself. "I seem to recall you like extra in your cup, but I figured you'd like a quick swig to help wake up."

"There's something I need to do before that." She answered, taking the cup and another step toward him. Her free hand snuck up and wrapped around the back of his head to pull him down for a peck. "Thanks for this. You didn't have to."

He smiled, feeling his face warm again. "Yes I did." He cleared his throat and turned to the table, arm grandly sweeping out. "Food is served mademoiselle."

"Merci Monsieur." She responded, going for her chair.

He watched her scoot herself in and look to him when he remained where she greeted him, brows in his hairline. That was way too good of pronunciation, despite the vocabulary being too common not to know. "Samara, are you multilingual by any chance?" He asked, joining her at the table.

"Oui. Je peux parler le francais." She responded xwith a grin.

His mouth dropped. He was actually unable to think of a response for a moment. "Fascinating." He dumbly replied. He switched to French just as easily, firing out questions about where she'd learned it, for how long, and if she'd ever been to any French-speaking land. She easily answered all of his questions as if she were using English. They conversed that way for all of breakfast and through a refill of coffee in the living room.

It was much easier with the British Isles being so close to Europe and having hundreds of years of interconnected commerce for French to be a little more of a staple. Despite Canada being the northern neighbor to The States, the area they lived in was far too south to do much business with it. Even with Young Technologies working on a global scale, and the city known for international inhabitants, French wasn't a usual language most people picked up.

His respect for her went up yet again.

It was more than quaint that she wanted to help with dishes. "I'd prefer to do them!" She insisted again, trying to carefully take a plate from his hands. "You made me breakfast and I didn't even ask you to. Before that it's been pay for practically every meal we've ever had. No scratch that; it HAS been every meal we've ever had. Then I've taken up space in your apartment for an entire day. Not to mention my family putting you out at every possible turn."

"You won't win this one Bunty. I'm not going to allow a guest in my home doing my dishes, no matter whom started it. You already got to do your dinner plate last night. Call that a win and be done."

Her cheeks puffed up a little as she pouted. She knew she wasn't going to triumph, but it didn't sit right with her to freeload when it was just scrubbing plates. "Fine... I don't want to break anything." She mumbled, letting go.

He smiled and turned to the table to get the rest. "Take these moments as first in the shower to wash up. If you wish, you may use my things. Your clothes are still on the counter next to the bar stool area."

She gave an embarrassed laugh at finding her dress where she left it last night. "I'll only be a few minutes so I don't waste all the hot water."

"Feel free. If you take too long, I can always join you."

Her heart plummeted for a second and her steps from the kitchen halted immediately. She didn't want to retort anything that was going to start something again, so hurried away for the top floor. 'What? Three times in less than a day isn't enough for you? Geez!'

Her jaw dropped when she saw the bathroom. "Wow..."

There was a hot tub! She had seen hot tubs before, but had never used one. There was a burning urge to do so now, but she didn't want to take up that much water just to clean herself. There were so many windows that she didn't even need to turn on the sink lights. The shower was all glass doors and it looked as amazing as the rest of the apartment. She smiled. 'Kind of like him... Just when I think I've acclimated to everything, I open another door and see brand, amazing new stuff.'

She put the pajama top on the sink and turned the water on. She then realized that his shower could easily fit the both of them and threw her face in the spray before that thought turned erotic. She snagged his shampoo and soap, feeling odd at going to such extents in his own home, even though he offered. She knew she wouldn't be able to clean off twenty-four hours of sweat with just water though.

Shutting the water off found new problems. "Crap. Towels...towels...where are you?"

She didn't want to drip over his floor, but there was nothing in immediate reach and the floor was all tile anyway. She carefully stepped out and found a few in the sink cabinets. One went around her torso, the other on her head. Just as she managed to finish getting her head secured, there was a knock. She opened it with a raised brow. "Is there even a point in knocking?" She asked. "You've already seen it all."

The impressive cleavage that he rested on last night met his eyes and he pointedly kept them on her face, though it was hard. "Perhaps, but a gentleman should always knock just in case. I see you've finished. I shall swap with you then."

She opened the door and stepped out of the way for him to enter. "I swear I didn't use up all the hot water."

"Pay no attention to that. I've never been able to manage since I moved in."

She closed the door behind her, giving him privacy and went hunting for her underwear yet again. She scoffed at the thought of having to locate them twice. 'How many times am I going to keep losing them on his bedroom floor? Good thing I don't have to worry about that tomorrow.'

She sobered at the thought of not being able to with with him like this again till probably next Saturday. If today was anything to go by, there was no way she could meet Charles after work and do anything because she would get home too late, if at all, and the last time she was dropped off after sleeping in his bed it was earlier than she usually got up. Then there was Bowser to take care of and she didn't know whether or not it was okay to bring her dog to his place. Friday night was the raid and she didn't want to sacrifice her online friends to Charles, no matter what their relationship was now.

That thought hit her and she felt odd. She wanted to be sadder than she felt. After so much time with Charles, she was going back to the general life of solitude she had always had. He would go his way and she hers. They would work together at the office and he may offer her a ride, maybe lunch together, but once he was gone from view, she would go back to her own ways.

She sat on the bed, dress forgotten in her hand as she stared at the floor. Yesterday had been magical and she had lost herself in it, but now it was time to go back to her regular ways. “Vacation's over with huh?” She whispered, frowning.

The morning was hedging into lunch; she needed to get home and check on things. There were no plans laid out for the rest of the day, but she needed to rescue Mrs. Whipple from Bowser or visa versa, get her clothes in the laundry or check to see if it needed to be done, maybe work on Evermake a little, and be sure to get to bed at a reasonable time tonight. Work was coming up faster than she considered until now.

She finally moved with a sigh and looked to her clothes, throwing it over her head. “It's amazing how long one day can seem...”

She got her arms through, still not able to get the belt fixed, when her phone rang. She fished it out of a pocket and held it to her ear, free hand brushing fabric straight. “Hello?”

“My peachy pumpkin poo!”

She held the phone out from her ear at the volume, cringing at it that was almost broken. She felt like she was suddenly having an out of body experience as she brought the phone back in. “H...hi...dad...”

“I'm so sorry that I haven't called you until now pumpkin, but your mom and I had a lot to catch up on! I'm sure you can forgive your dear old dad? I couldn't take it anymore and needed to hear your voice.”

She smiled, having missed him too until there was the sound of a door swinging open.

“Samara?”

She whipped to it, panicked eyes on Charles's face. She jerked a hand to her lips in a shush look, praying he could read into her fright enough to know who it was.

Thankfully, she was just given the setup to help him.

“N – no problem...DAD. How is Hawaii?”

“Oh I just got back. Our plane touched down a bit ago and we're waiting on our bags right now.”

“What?!” Her hand slapped over her mouth, watching Charles's face go completely confused. A sense of foreboding and anxiety washed over her. “Ahem...I mean...s – sorry...dad. I didn't meant to s – shout...I was j – just...surprised.”

She was stuttering. She also acted like someone had a gun in front of her. She looked like she was pleading with her eyes for something. He wisely stayed quiet and went for the phone he had moved to the nightstand. He tucked the towel around his waist to last a little longer before pulling open the memo app and started typing.

She looked to the floor, feeling like she was tumbling off the top of the mountain Charles hoisted her to. She tried to take some deep breaths, looking around for wherever her inhaler had ended up just in case. “S – so...you're...back, huh? H – how was the p – plane ride?” Her eyes jerked over to a phone in her face and she squinted a little as she started reading.

 _Your_ _father?_ _What_ _is_ _his_ _eta_ _back_ _at_ _work?_ _Do_ _I_ _need_ _to_ _bring_ _you_ _home_ _right_ _now?_

The last question had her face falling and the phone call forgotten for a second.

“Are you free for lunch pumpkin? I was thinking of checking with Jay and see if we can all go out and spend some time together.”

“L...lunch?” Her brow furrowed up, eyes on Charles. While her realization on the edge of his bed had her facing life, her father's words were a sledgehammer in the fabric of the world she had built up in twenty-four hours. “Um, yea. I think I can make it. What time were you planning?”

He knew that she needed to head home today. It didn't feel real, as real as the rest of the world hadn't been until now. He listened to her revert back into her shell; a burrow animal which had seen its shadow and gone back into hiding. He sighed a little, deleting the memo and putting his phone on the bed for clothes. She would need to be leaving possibly in the next few minutes and he'd need to be ready.

“I'm glad you had fun with mom, dad. Can you text me with the general time? Are you going to pick me up or is Jay? I know I could take the bus there, but it's a lot slower than you guys, so I'd be really late.” Her eyes followed Charles as he undid the towel and lay it on the bed. Her eyes landed on his rear, throat going dry and heart picking up. Even when he put on underwear, it didn't help the buzzing in her veins. The more clothes he was putting on, the more delicious he looked. Mainly because she knew what he looked like without them.

“Pumpkin? Are you there?”

“Yes!” She squeaked, shaking her head. She scowled to find Charles looking at her in knowing amusement, hair deliciously messy, and her face flared. “I was just thinking. Sorry. Just be sure to text me. Wherever is fine with me. I'll talk to you later dad. I...I need to go...take care of Bowser now.”

She hung up the phone after his goodbye and heaved a sigh to release all of the sudden anxiety. There was a presence in front of her and she leaned forward into solid chest, arms going around her a second later. She knew he would catch her and thus gave way in to the need for stability.

“How is your father doing?”

She sighed into his shirt, not wanting to mention her dad. It was not a good topic for where she was after all of the things her father would never approve of.

Her eyes peeked open and she pushed off him, solemnly meeting his eyes when a problem presented itself.

“Dad is back...” She mumbled, forlorn coming over her.

“So you said...” He trailed off, brow going up in befuddlement.

She looked to someplace on his shirt, mouth scrunching up for a second. “This means that...playtime is over, huh? It's back to business only or dad is going to kill you.”

His lips twitched, although the trepidation of that subject was not something he wanted to consider because it wasn't a bluff. “Your father has always been overprotective of you Samara. It wouldn't matter if it was me or another man.”

She scowled and looked at him again. “That's not fair! I'm an adult now! I'm in my twenties; when is he going to see that? Am I supposed to hide this from him for the rest of my life?!”

“I have no answer for that Samara. Your father is a very emotional man who almost lost you before he even got to hold you in his arms. The trauma of that is still very much with him. I'm sure there is something you are glad to have that you almost lost and are hesitant to let go of now that you have it.”

“Yea... You.” She blurted out, face warming at her words.

His face matched hers, bashful smile popping up. “S...so you can perhaps...understand where he's coming from.”

She heaved a sigh and wrapped her arms tightly around him. “Yea...I guess.” Her eyes teared a little and she sniffled, trying to take a steady inhale, but it didn't happen. “This isn't over...so why does it feel like it?”

“I am not one for sneaking around on your father Samara because you are unable to lie to him. Sooner or later you'll need to decide if you want to stand up to him for the sake of a relationship, whether it's me or not. You'll need to level with him and make him see that someone who wants to be with you isn't an evil person.”

“ _I_ _knew_ _the_ _day_ _would_ _come_ _Jones,_ _when_ _you'd_ _try_ _to_ _take_ _my_ _daughter_ _away_ _from_ _me!_ _You_ _were_ _always_ _too_ _pretty_ _not_ _to_ _be_ _the_ _villain_ _of_ _this_ _story!_ _If_ _you_ _want_ _her,_ _then_ _you'll_ _have_ _to_ _pry_ _her_ _from_ _my_ _cold,_ _dead_ _hands!_ _”_

“ _I'm_ _sorry_ _about_ _my_ _dad_ _Charles._ _He_ _shouldn't_ _have_ _said_ _the_ _other_ _stuff_ _about_ _you_ _being_ _a_ _villain_ _and_ _trying_ _to_ _take_ _me_ _away_ _from_ _him._ _It_ _was_ _wrong_ _for_ _him_ _to_ _say_ _that._ _”_

“ _What_ _makes_ _you_ _so_ _sure_ _he's_ _wrong?_ _”_

She had no idea what he was talking about then and she felt like there were still things he was hinting at which he wasn't going into right now. She knew she should ask him for more details, but all she wanted was to memorize this hold which she was going to get cut off from for an unknown number of days.

“I believe it's time for you to head back. Do you have all your things?”

She patted her pockets, feeling for inhaler, cell phone, card, and ID. “Yea...” She mumbled, stepping from his embrace.

He gently clasped her arm when she turned for the stairs and turned her to face him. “I'd like to thank you for a lovely day Bunty. I do say I've enjoyed myself more in twenty-four hours than I have in quite some time. I will also miss the opportunity to spend time with you, but that is up for you to decide. I will let you make that decision.”

She leaned her head up as his came down, imprinting the feel of his lips on hers.

Work was going to be hell on earth. How was she supposed to be next to Charles without hugging him, holding his hand, an innocent touch here or there, sharing coffee in her office, or possible car rides home without her father erupting at every single thing? The prospect of his overbearing attitude at anything adult toward her made her cringe and she didn't think she had the energy to keep standing up to him at every turn.

She sighed when he let go and made for the lower levels.

She stopped at the bottom and took a few steps into the the living area, taking it all in. She wasn't going to be here for a while and she wanted to remember it as it was at midnight last night, as it was this morning: full of fun, taunting, conversation, and...etcetera.

She clicked her seatbelt on, not feeling like speaking and yet not knowing what to even say. She rested her elbow on the car door, heavy head going in her hand. She watched his place disappear and hers come into view. It was strange to be back in her own world again and leave his; she really liked it at his place and not because of all the sexy things they did. He was intelligent and fun to talk to. She hadn't been able to speak in French with someone, let alone that much, in a while.

'It's not forever. You'll be able to figure something out. First things first; get Bowser taken care of with extra treats for ignoring him. Monday you can feel out the situation and see what you can do then. Stop moping; Charles is probably not as happy about this as you are.'

She stole a view of him at the thought of him and found his eyes on the road as usual.

“Here we are Samara. I hope the rest of your day is as good as the morning was. At least the beginning part.”

She pasted on a smile, not wanting to be sulky in the last few fun seconds she had. “Thanks for so much Charles. I'll never forget today. Can...I get just...one last kiss for now? You know...since we probably won't be able to do so at the office...”

“I can't say no to such a request.” He murmured, leaning over to gently claim her lips. He let go when she sighed, knowing that the longer they dragged this goodbye out, the less he knew either would want to depart from the other. “I'll see you tomorrow morning Samara.”

She nodded and opened the door, staying in her spot waving as he drove away. She watched the car until it rounded a corner and was gone. She turned for the stairs, not really feeling like going up them. After a moment, hands slapped her cheeks. “Stop acting like this and go get Bowser! You'll be fine. Charles will be fine. He's had to deal with this and is probably used to dropping women off at their place...”

Had she said that with him in earshot, however, she would have gotten an exact answer to that assumption. Said person waited till he hit a red light before heaving a sigh and resting his head on the headrest.

The second he drove off, the space she left was almost tangible. The quiet was quickly getting to him, the sounds of traffic not enough to keep him from his head.

As much as he was loathe to let her get out of the car, he had to tell himself to stop being an idiot and let her get on with the rest of her day. She had things to do that didn't concern him and had been doing them until he picked her up a day ago. He would see her the next day at the office and they would be able to interact. She wasn't going away forever.

So he hoped.

“Stop that!” He harshly chastised, stepping on the accelerator a little more than he should've. He gripped the wheel until his skin hurt and only loosened his hold to make a turn.

It didn't take long to get back, but when he finished parking the car and turned the engine off, he remained belted in. There was nothing he had to do and nowhere he had to be for a while. There was a fencing class he had later tonight, but that was hours away. Going back out sounded much more appealing, even if there were no shops he needed to buy anything at. Returning to the black hole she had created in his apartment almost had him cringing.

He scoffed at his own behavior and quickly undid the seatbelt, immediately exiting the car. He tried not to stalk to the elevator and press the button like a normal person, but couldn't keep from crossing his arms in a scowl.

The place could've been a tomb for as quiet as it was, despite it already being well-built. His shoes made more noise on the floors, but it paled in comparison to the morning he could easily envision and which chair each other sat in. The lovely conversation in another language, the smells of the breakfast she was so thankful for. He leaned against the bar area with crossed arms, staring at the empty table like she'd materialize there or he'd rewind a few hours.

“Be reasonable. She needed to go home. Did you plan on keeping her here until Monday?”

Honestly...that didn't sound all that bad.

She made things lively. She was a star which brightened up everything around her. Her kindness was addictive and he was now cut off from it. All of the light streaming in from the mass amount of windows meant nothing if she wasn't there with that glorious smile of hers.

“Get a hold of yourself!” He chastised, walking into the living room and turning the tv on. Yes. Give his brain something else to do. Anything. He tried to flip around for a movie that caught his eye, but he went through at least a hundred channels before finally deciding on some random history documentary. It was that or he would end up going through the roulette of the entire queue to no avail.

It was on the French Revolution.

“It had to involve French...” He mumbled, grabbing the controller. He switched the channel again, making sure to steer clear of anything that had to do with her. It was hard because a few involved pets, another on computers, and a sleuth of cooking shows.

Before finishing even one thirty minute piece, he got up and headed to the kitchen. He was...bored. He didn't need another glaring reminder that his life was pretty much nothing more than work, fencing, and home. He didn't go out with his co-workers when they invited him, and the only other people that came to his place sounded absolutely appalling to invite right now.

Thinking of Rosewood had him shying away after the magnificent times with Samara. She was a whole new world that astounded him in a good way and the ignored part of his soul which she illuminated was swatting away his previous engagements in hopes she'd come back soon. While he was true in saying that he was no longer with Eva, Rosewood was another matter. But the thought of her coming over was out of the question. Not while Samara's presence was still everywhere. Not when Samara's emotional attachment to the whole thing made Rosewood's detachment of the act sound like an ordeal.

It had only been an hour since he got back and he had a few more to go before even thinking of getting his fencing gear ready. His stomach growled and he figured it would be no better to keep his mind off of her than by keeping his hands busy.

That was difficult with the thought of making her breakfast while she slept and then everything after her entrance. Even when he switched the tv to classical for something soothing, it did little to help take the edge off.

The sounds of sizzling reminded him of the earlier omelets and hashbrowns and he ended up making a larger portion without thinking. He put the rest in the fridge for later if necessary, the cleaning up not taking as long as he wanted.

The only other noise aside his chewing was the clink of metal on porcelain. It was sterile, just like the rest of the glass and mortar he didn't like right now. He sat at the table long after his food was empty, mind replaying all of the praises she wouldn't stop that ended them back up in his bed.

The second he was done loading the dishwasher, he fled for the patio. It was the only place they hadn't really gone to yesterday and it only held one, more distant memory of her. When she wanted to have coffee outside because she wanted to check out the rest of his apartment.

The noises from the ground came to greet him, quieter after their trek up the floors. He was able to attune to them for a few grateful moments, the normalcy of traffic and honking and driving cars putting him more into the real world.

At least until his mind wandered back to her, pondering if she was eating with her family right now or not.

 _Absolutely_ _ethereal._ _Was_ _there_ _a_ _more_ _perfect_ _woman_ _who_ _was_ _fit_ _for_ _him?_

He had thought that last night, but wasn't as ecstatic about it as he figured when it crossed his mind. He had gone against every stipulation about not getting attached and was now attached. What had it gained him? Nothing positive in the short term.

Samara wasn't the issue really. Samuel would never allow him to step foot near his daughter if it wasn't for work and hand's on was out of the question. So many times during work there had been tussles full of miscommunication that he was forced to ignore and show his boss just what the deal was. Just the thought of trying to defend his actions with Samara to her father made him exhausted.

'He probably would kill me if he knew anything here had transpired.'

No amount of fancy footwork or fencing knowledge was going to save him from a man the size of Samuel's caliber. Days ago when Samara had that drink, he was scared enough that Samuel would find out and actually kill him for bringing his only daughter to a strange place while she wasn't in her right mind. If Samuel knew even a fraction of what happened within the last day, he'd be a dead man faster than it would take to whirl for the door and run.

Her brother would be pushing to be first in line too.

He sighed, head falling back to the cushion and idly staring at the clouds passing by. She might have been the perfect fit for him in so many ways and he could see that now that he was looking back on everything, but there were a lot of issues he didn't think he was willing to fight through. One of the biggest problems was Samara standing up to her own family instead of him having to do it. Only she could make her father see reason and if she couldn't do that, there was no point in him attempting a thing. He highly doubted she would have such gumption to be able to do that with as pushy as Samuel was...even though she stood up to Jay on his behalf once.

'This was perhaps a bad idea like I originally thought...' A hand scrubbed his face, a sense of foreboding and anxiety hitting him. 'How do I get out of this puzzle?'

He wasn't attempting to keep her in his life in such a way, but it ended up happening. She had ruined his walls and he didn't remember anymore how he put them up in the first place. A part of him was too tired to do so again...and he really didn't want to. It was nice in her arms and she was genuine. She was a woman most men would pursue, provided they could scale the pedestal she was unknowingly on.

Tomorrow would hopefully show up faster than it was right now. He knew an answer wouldn't be found by steeping in the memories of something he enjoyed more than he thought he would. She was there for it all, instigated the emotional parts, and cleaned up after them as well. She let him do things he didn't let himself do and a part of him was grateful to her for that. Right now he was biased toward her and had to take a step away. The rest of the day could help him with that and maybe tomorrow he could find a clue on how to handle this from tomorrow on out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The French part means: Yes. I can speak French.


	24. waiting for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a second, she had stepped forward and thrown her arms around his neck, crashing his lips over hers. He accepted it like a thirsting man in a desert searching for a drink of water. His arms went around her waist tightly, hand in her hair. She felt so good and he couldn't believe how much he missed her until she was lavishing him with her mouth. He didn't want to let go, but didn't want to get caught in the act with her father hovering around her office so much.

On Monday, he woke up a few minutes before his alarm went off and got ready a little quicker than usual. The shower felt great, coffee tasted fantastic, and the drive not as horrible as it should have been for morning traffic. There was a slight restlessness that he knew the reason for, but didn't deny. There was a hitch in his breath, a small uptake in his heartbeat. His finger tapped on the steering wheel in anticipation every time he had to wait at a red light. He couldn't keep the smile off his face, not able to pacify himself as he got closer to Young Technologies. He embraced it despite telling himself to calm down and pace himself.

He should have known better than to hope things in life would go smoothly. He wasn't even given five minutes on Monday after he stepped into the office and passed her door before he came into roadblock number one. Everything that had built up over the course of a measly few hours shattered in a second as reality hit him in the face.

_"What_ _are_ _you_ _doing_ _in_ _here_ _Jones?"_

_"Dad!"_

_"I_ _was_ _just_ _going_ _to_ _greet_ _Miss_ _Young_ _for_ _the_ _morning_ _Mr._ _Young."_ _Charles_ _turned_ _and_ _inclined_ _his_ _head_ _her_ _way,_ _seeing_ _her_ _chagrined_ _look_ _at_ _behavior_ _he_ _had_ _long_ _grown_ _accustomed_ _to._ _"Now_ _that_ _I_ _have_ _done_ _so,_ _I'll_ _be_ _in_ _my_ _office_ _if_ _I'm_ _needed._ _Have_ _a_ _pleasant_ _day_ _Mr._ _Young."_

“ _Jones._ _”_

He had a feeling that Samuel was being his ever-present doting father who was just visiting his daughter after an extended absence. Even though they went out for who knew how long to eat and catch up just the other day. The best part for Samuel was he could see his daughter whenever he wanted, around meetings and company visits that was. He was apparently using that to his advantage first thing.

And was apparently the case when he knocked on the door about lunchtime.

“ _Come_ _in._ _”_

“ _Dad,_ _I'm_ _supposed_ _to_ _be_ _saying_ _that._ _You_ _said_ _you'd_ _just_ _sit_ _there_ _and_ _let_ _me_ _work._ _Come_ _in._ _”_

_He_ _opened_ _the_ _door,_ _finding_ _Samuel_ _at_ _the_ _table_ _with_ _take-out_ _containers._

“ _Did_ _you_ _need_ _something_ _Charles?_ _”_

_He_ _looked_ _from_ _father_ _to_ _daughter,_ _mentally_ _sighing._ _The_ _second_ _hope_ _at_ _spending_ _an_ _iota_ _of_ _time_ _together_ _was_ _squashed_ _yet_ _again._ _“_ _I...was_ _just_ _going_ _to_ _see_ _if_ _you_ _were_ _taking_ _time_ _off_ _for_ _lunch_ _Miss_ _Young._ _I_ _know_ _how_ _into_ _your_ _work_ _you_ _can_ _get_ _sometimes_ _and_ _as_ _your_ _supervisor,_ _I_ _don't_ _want_ _you_ _to_ _overwork_ _yourself._ _”_ _He_ _took_ _a_ _step_ _into_ _the_ _hallway,_ _hand_ _a_ _little_ _tighter_ _on_ _the_ _doorknob._ _“_ _Have_ _a_ _pleasant_ _lunch_ _with_ _your_ _father._ _Mr._ _Young._ _”_

“ _Jones._ _”_

“ _Dad..._ _”_

Half of Monday passed by and he didn't get to say more than handful words. There hadn't been a good opportunity to pass along anything for her or take time in her office to discuss contracts or teach her something she could use in her game-making business. There was no way he could just traipse into her office to greet her how he wanted, namely with a kiss and hold her, if Samuel was in her room, let alone lurking around. He wanted to finish the first half of the week without getting throttled.

His only opportunity came when the excessively dull and aggravating day came to a close and he had a viable reason to not be theoretically shoved from her space.

“ _Miss_ _Young,_ _may_ _I_ _offer_ _you_ _a_ _ride_ _home?_ _”_

“ _Over_ _my_ _dead_ _body!_ _”_

“ _Dad!_ _”_ _Samara_ _stood_ _and_ _smiled_ _over_ _computers,_ _brow_ _up_ _as_ _if_ _to_ _apologize_ _for_ _the_ _extra_ _company_ _she_ _also_ _didn't_ _fully_ _want_ _in_ _that_ _second._ _“_ _I_ _appreciate_ _the_ _offer_ _Charles._ _I_ _know_ _how_ _you_ _think_ _the_ _bus_ _is_ _unsafe_ _and_ _I'm_ _happy_ _you're_ _thinking_ _of_ _me._ _I'll_ _get_ _my_ _things_ _ready_ _if_ _you'll_ _give_ _me_ _five_ _minutes._ _”_

“ _I_ _can_ _drive_ _you_ _as_ _well_ _pumpkin!_ _Why_ _don't_ _you_ _let_ _me?_ _We_ _can_ _chat_ _on_ _the_ _way_ _to_ _your_ _place._ _”_

“ _Dad,_ _you've_ _been_ _in_ _my_ _office_ _far_ _too_ _much_ _today._ _Don't_ _you_ _have_ _meetings_ _and_ _email_ _to_ _catch_ _up_ _on_ _after_ _a_ _week_ _of_ _being_ _gone?_ _”_

“ _I've_ _been_ _productive_ _if_ _that's_ _what_ _you're_ _concerned_ _about_ _pumpkin._ _But_ _your_ _mother_ _always_ _worries_ _about_ _me_ _being_ _cooped_ _up_ _in_ _my_ _office_ _and_ _they_ _say_ _you_ _should_ _take_ _breaks_ _from_ _the_ _electronics_ _every_ _hour_ _or_ _so._ _”_

“ _Well_ _you've_ _definitely_ _done_ _that_ _for_ _today._ _I_ _believe_ _I_ _will_ _too._ _Just_ _let_ _me_ _close_ _this_ _down_ _Charles_ _and_ _I'll_ _be_ _ready._ _”_

“ _Make_ _sure_ _you_ _call_ _me_ _when_ _you_ _get_ _back_ _okay_ _pumpkin?_ _I'll_ _have_ _my_ _phone_ _on_ _me._ _”_

That car ride was less pleasant than it should have been. It was supposed to be an invitation to spend the evening together, to go out for dinner, to watch a movie at her place, to perhaps stop at his and he could cook something, or even spend time on his patio and watch the sun set. Her father's final, probably intentional words killed every single opportunity they both wanted. After seeing the few looks she snuck in, the longing in her eyes, it was a loss to them both.

“ _Ugh...dad_ _has_ _been_ _clingier_ _than_ _usual_ _today..._ _I'm_ _sorry_ _that_ _he_ _was_ _so_ _rude_ _to_ _you_ _Charles._ _”_

“ _I've_ _long_ _grown_ _accustom_ _to_ _such_ _things_ _Miss_ _Young._ _”_

“ _You_ _can_ _call_ _me_ _Samara_ _now._ _It's_ _safe._ _And_ _that's_ _not_ _something_ _you_ _should_ _ever_ _get_ _used_ _to._ _”_

_He_ _smiled_ _and_ _glanced_ _her_ _way._ _“_ _Sorry._ _Force_ _of_ _habit_ _from_ _the_ _day._ _”_

_She_ _sighed._ _“_ _I..I'm_ _sorry_ _for_ _not_ _being_ _able_ _to_ _spend_ _any_ _time_ _with_ _you._ _I_ _was_ _looking_ _forward_ _to_ _having_ _lunch_ _with_ _you_ _too._ _Dad_ _got_ _food_ _before_ _I_ _even_ _knew_ _what_ _he_ _was_ _doing._ _I_ _should_ _have_ _texted_ _you_ _beforehand,_ _but_ _I_ _didn't_ _think_ _about_ _it_ _until_ _he_ _waltzed_ _in_ _with_ _the_ _stuff._ _I_ _know_ _he_ _just_ _missed_ _me_ _because_ _he_ _usually_ _gets_ _to_ _see_ _me_ _at_ _least_ _once_ _a_ _day_ _at_ _the_ _office._ _Ugh...I_ _wish_ _I_ _didn't_ _have_ _to_ _call_ _him,_ _but_ _I_ _think_ _he's_ _just_ _being_ _overprotective_ _again._ _I_ _don't_ _know_ _how_ _long_ _it'll_ _take_ _or_ _I'd_ _invite_ _you_ _in._ _”_

_The_ _last_ _few_ _words_ _had_ _his_ _veins_ _buzz_ _in_ _a_ _feeling_ _very_ _similar_ _to_ _the_ _weekend,_ _but_ _he_ _clenched_ _his_ _jaw_ _a_ _little_ _against_ _it._ _Such_ _a_ _thing_ _wasn't_ _going_ _to_ _happen_ _and_ _thus_ _there_ _was_ _no_ _sense_ _in_ _getting_ _worked_ _up._ _As_ _it_ _was,_ _the_ _sense_ _of_ _let-down_ _was_ _already_ _building_ _higher_ _than_ _the_ _pleasure_ _at_ _spending_ _any_ _time_ _together._ _“_ _It's_ _alright_ _Samara._ _I_ _do_ _need_ _to_ _teach_ _tonight_ _after_ _all._ _It_ _would_ _have_ _only_ _been_ _for_ _a_ _little_ _while_ _anyway._ _”_

“ _Is_ _it_ _alright_ _if_ _I_ _call_ _you_ _and_ _chat?_ _It_ _doesn't_ _have_ _to_ _be_ _about_ _anything..._ _”_

“ _My_ _class_ _usually_ _runs_ _into_ _the_ _eight_ _o'clock_ _hour_ _and_ _by_ _the_ _time_ _I_ _get_ _home_ _and_ _cleaned_ _up,_ _it's_ _close_ _to_ _ten._ _Are_ _you_ _awake_ _around_ _then?_ _”_

“ _Um...I_ _should_ _working_ _on_ _going_ _to_ _sleep_ _soon_ _after_ _that_ _myself._ _Sometimes_ _I_ _play_ _World_ _of_ _Warquest_ _from_ _dinner_ _till_ _bed_ _collecting_ _things_ _for_ _the_ _usual_ _Friday_ _night_ _stuff._ _I'd_ _gladly_ _put_ _it_ _off_ _if_ _I_ _didn't_ _have_ _to_ _call_ _dad...and_ _you_ _have_ _your_ _fencing._ _I_ _guess_ _Monday_ _isn't_ _our_ _day_ _huh?_ _”_

The evening wound down without any conversation to speak of. By the time he had put everything away, showered, and was resting in bed, it was almost ten-thirty. He sent a speculative text message that he didn't receive anything on after ten minutes and sent another saying to not worrying about calling if she was asleep and bid her good night.

It was irksome that their first chance after that weekend was thwarted; he was hoping to see how she would fare with him after such heated exchanges. From the lack of stutter and good amount of eye contact that first day after heading back to her own world, she seemed to have been doing well, but he didn't know if the variables in their path were part of the problem. How would she do if he managed to get closer? If he was able to run his hands down the top of her arms, lean his forehead against hers, hold her petite figure in his arms.

It was too late to know now and he hoped that tomorrow was better after Samuel had spent a chunk of his work hours doing nothing in his daughter's office. Perhaps that appeased him enough to leave her alone.

It was almost on his mind Tuesday morning to call her and see if she wanted to have breakfast at The Daily Grind again before heading to work, but he didn't think of it until after his alarm went off at its usual time. It was much too late to hope she hadn't had already eaten something or had gone there herself already. He stared at the phone, unsure frown and eyes looking from it to the his reflection in the mirror, face half cleaned of shaving cream. Even if he contacted her immediately and rushed to get ready, then met her there, it was probably too short notice.

Curses. It would've been such a good idea too. After spending an entire day together and then absolutely nothing, it would have revived the feelings that were slumping away deprived and useless, yet standing around floundering with nothing to house them in. Her arms were gone as was his previous sanctuary and while he still remembered what the 'old ways' felt like, they were now undesirable. He was kept farther than he wanted to be now and even as her boss, he was afforded no free time to spend with her on the clock.

An idea came to him as he was heading for his car and it made him step up his pace just a little, hoping that she didn't mind an extra beverage after the one she most likely purchased. She often went to the establishment, if the latest purchases could be taken into account, and he could surmise she would go again today. The free coffee Young Technologies provided didn't seem to faze most people that worked there as they often walked in with cups purchased from other locations.

He hurried in, straightening his hair as he greeted Dee and decided to choose something for himself while he was here. “I hope you can remember what I ordered because I never received the name of it. Also, is there a type that Samara prefers over the other?”

Dee smiled and ordered what he was talking about from the other day. “I'll admit to you that Sam was already here this morning, saying she really needed caffeine, though I didn't ask why. But I'm sure the thought won't be overlooked.” She passed the cup holder over with a smile. “Have a good day Charles.”

He thanked her and hurried to his car, wanting to get there while everything was still hot. He greeted Lucy and made sure to pause before her open door, listening just in case there were others in there with her that he didn't feel like dealing with at this second.

His foresight was spot on.

“Are you sure pumpkin? I don't mind if you take your laptop and work with me in my office. I feel like I didn't get to talk to you at all yesterday. There's so much we have to catch up on.”

“Dad, I need to be able to concentrate. That's why I have my own office and you have yours. Don't you have any meetings scheduled for today?”

He sighed and turned for his door, not yet bidding her a greeting. He left the door cracked enough to hear outside and not be bothered by all. He set the briefcase near his desk and started up the laptop. Just as he was about ready to give in to the heavenly smell that was sitting on his desk still untouched, the sound of a door clicking shut had his eyes snapping to the gap in his.

His lips tilted. 'Finally.'

He gave it an extra minute for safety before standing and slipping his fingers through the holder. He craned his head down the hall before crossing the short space in a few steps and lightly knocked.

“Dad! I told you to go work already!”

He grinned and opened the blockade. “I sure will Miss Young, soon after I give you this.”

“Charles?!”

He quietly clicked the door shut and looked at her shocked, yet happy eyes. He felt more at ease as he took in her form, not finding anything specific on which was for him today, but she still looked nice. Her hair was down in its usual form; a monochromatic tunic that bled into a darker color as it went to her hips. She was smart enough to have picked a long-sleeve outfit to wear for the air conditioning this time around. He found a pair of basic black tights when she stepped from her desk.

“Not that I'm complaining, but what brings you here?”

He held up the forgotten container for them to see. “I know that you may have already purchased one, but I felt behooved to stop at your friend's coffee shop and get a few brews for the morning.”

He watched her happy, yet slightly abashed look as she stared at the cups. “I'm sorry Charles, I did get one already...”

He set the cup he bought for her on her desk, still resting in its spot with his. “I figured Miss Young. However, you have done the same for me assuming I had also had my morning coffee and I wanted to return the favor.” His free hand came up and stroked a cheek. “I felt like replaying a little of the kindness you always bestow upon me.”

In a second, she had stepped forward and thrown her arms around his neck, crashing his lips over hers. He accepted it like a thirsting man in a desert searching for a drink of water. His arms went around her waist tightly, hand in her hair. She felt so good and he couldn't believe how much he missed her until she was lavishing him with her mouth. He didn't want to let go, but didn't want to get caught in the act with her father hovering around her office so much.

He tried to get his breathing back, resting his forehead against hers. “I missed you...” She breathed. “Dad has been...very avid in spending time with me. I usually don't mind, but...yesterday I really did. I didn't want to hurt his feelings though since he wanted to see me.”

He pulled back enough to take in her swollen lips and hazy eyes, desperately wanting to kiss her again and hug her even tighter. “It's a shame I have no documents to go over with you this morning.” He lamented, nearly pouting.

She giggled and reached up to kiss him again before stepping from his arms. She took the coffee and finally sipped it, finding it easily drinkable and wondered just how long he'd been holding onto it. “Hey...this tastes familiar.”

He smiled and reached for his. “I asked your friend Dee just what you usually purchase since I was unaware of such a detail.”

She flushed at how adorable it was and smiled her thanks. “So...um...there's nothing you have to give me for work right now which we can do together...but are you maybe free for lunch? You know...since I missed it yesterday...”

His face softened at how she remembered the despondence her father didn't help with and nodded. “I do believe I can find a proper location today, unless you would like to go out someplace specific?”

“Oh! How about that one, weird fast food place we were at the other day? We can just leave earlier or later so we miss the crowds.”

“I'll check back with you around -”

“Pumpkin? I forgot to -”

The duo whipped to the door as it suddenly opened and stared at a pair of shocked eyes jerking in between them. He quickly turned and took a sip of his coffee, raising it a little in her direction. “Now that I've delivered what I came here to, I bid you a good work morning on your daily tasks Miss Young. I hope you enjoy the coffee. Thank you for the other day by the way.” He paused in front of Samuel, fearlessly meeting his eyes. “Mr. Young.”

A pair of suspicious eyes looked him over, but he didn't flinch. “Jones...”

He kept his face neutral until the door to his office clicked and then sighed. “That man isn't going to make anything easy...” He grumbled, setting the cup near his laptop as he pressed a key to turn it back on.

Lunch with Samara. After a kiss like that, he wished it was already the hour he specified. It was heartening to know that she missed him even a fraction as much as he missed her. The morning had barely tiptoed into anything and he was going to have another day of toiling through emails and paperwork in order to wait out the hours. It wasn't the first time he had to deal with agonizing seconds which refused to hurry and all because it only meant he could be with her that much sooner, or in this case later.

Just around eleven, as he had finally managed to get into work and concentrate a bit, a small noise outside his door had him looking to it and switching focus.

“I told you I can't! I already have prior things to do then!”

“You mean you don't want to spend time with your dear old dad?”

“N...no...it's not that... D – don't cry dad.”

“Then we should hurry so we don't hit traffic.”

“But...”

He stood as the bickering didn't stop and opened his door, finding them right outside it. “Is there a problem? Mr. Young? Miss Young?”

“None of this concerns you Jones. Go back to your office.”

“Dad!” She glared at her father for his usual treatment and tugged at the hold he had over her arm. “Does it have to be now?”

“I thought we could spend more time there before things get crowded. Unless there's a problem with the location? We can always go somewhere else. I just thought that you might like it. I heard their food is pretty good and I haven't been able to have lunch with you since yesterday.”

His jaw clenched and he understood in a second the reason for her outburst against Samuel's. A thread of woe wrapped around his heart at seeing her look at him in helplessness, but not outright telling her father just why she couldn't go out to lunch with him. She was applying reverse pressure, but not enough to actually keep Samuel from dragging her away. He felt like saying that they already had plans, but knew he would incur the wrath of his employer over such a thing, especially after dodging the earlier bullet of being in her office with the door closed.

She had to be the one to say it, but she wasn't doing it. She was putting up enough of a struggle to make it look like she was trying her hardest to make him see reason, but Samuel was still winning by a long shot...as if he ever listened anyway. Charles watched the whole thing, seeing her get drug down the hallway with apologetic eyes constantly darting back to him in wish that he'd say something. He could only stand in the area he took one step into, listening to her wish her dad to be reasonable, but never be honest with him.

Then they were gone.

He stared down the trail they had made, deep frown on his face. The sense of disappointment almost had him stooping as it leaned over his shoulders. This wasn't the first time that Samuel had drug his daughter out of the hands of any nearby man, particularly him. The ever-present fatherly suspicions were correct, and yet she still didn't stand up for him...or herself. Not once did the words 'I have plans', 'I need to take a rain check', 'You'll have to do this tomorrow', or the like ever get uttered. She had prime opportunity the entire time, but for some reason unbeknownst to him, didn't feel like saying such words.

“ _I_ _didn't_ _want_ _to_ _hurt_ _his_ _feelings_ _though_ _since_ _he_ _really_ _wanted_ _to_ _see_ _me._ _”_

“ _My_ _dad_ _can_ _be_ _really_ _overly_ _protective._ _”_

“ _My_ _dad_ _wants_ _to_ _make_ _sure_ _I_ _have_ _a_ _good_ _career_ _and_ _I_ _want_ _to_ _please_ _him..._ _”_

“ _Thank_ _you_ _for_ _the_ _promotion_ _and_ _I'll_ _try_ _my_ _best_ _not_ _to_ _let_ _you_ _down._ _”_

“ _Dad_ _please._ _I'm_ _so_ _embarrassed..._ _”_

“ _D_ _–_ _dad,_ _is_ _that_ _really_ _necessary?_ _”_

All of those times that he could think of, she never stood up for herself and told the truth. Every instance gave her the opportunity, but she didn't have the strength to do it. Now that he had helped her find the capability, she still didn't. There was no valid reason and he couldn't figure it out.

Well...there were a few glaring facts that he didn't want to consider, but couldn't help himself.

She always gave into her father because she loved him and he knew this. But, even when he hoped to be a little more part of her life as they were somehow attempting once Samuel went to Hawaii, the second he came back it was like a door slamming in his face...even unintentionally so. While he had originally not wanted such attachments and tried to make it clear, SHE was the one who threw all of his caution to the wind. SHE was the one who made him trust and want more. SHE was the one who, just a few hours ago, made it sound like she wanted to spend time with him and lamented how much she couldn't yesterday. And SHE was the one who couldn't bother to fight for whatever it was they had created in his apartment that Saturday.

“ _I_ _d_ _–_ _don't_ _even_ _know_ _if_ _I'd_ _want_ _a_ _relationship_ _either._ _I've_ _never_ _planned_ _on_ _getting_ _married,_ _or_ _even_ _d_ _–_ _dating._ _”_

He had heard those words with his own ears. He tried to sway her into accepting anything he started to offer, but she still did what she always did: tear down his hesitations with her honesty and caring.

“ _Those_ _sort_ _of_ _new_ _experiences_ _should_ _be_ _shared_ _with_ _someone_ _special_ _to_ _you_ _and_ _not_ _with_ _someone_ _who_ _is_ _merely_ _available_ _and_ _convenient._ _”_

“ _But,_ _you_ _are_ _special_ _to_ _me_ _Charles._ _”_

The look in her eyes was too pure and trusting for it to be a lie. It was what originally roped him in and made him start to give in on a larger scale than what he already was doing. She hadn't strung him along at all, although he thought she was before they clarified things. That simple misunderstanding in his office was absolved with one conversation and he knew she had the power to clarify anything she wanted...if she only wanted to.

She wasn't crafty and manipulative like Rosewood, nor was she pushy and clingy like Eva. She didn't have that capability in her and that was probably one of the reasons why he was attached to her. She gave him things he lacked and desperately needed for so long. That's probably why it felt more like a slap in the face for her to wish to be with him and then rescind her words merely because someone was coercing her for their own innocent wishes.

Somehow he made his way back into his office and plopped into his chair. He stared at the computer that was now black, the extended time away having made it go to sleep. It almost felt like a dream, but the emotions hitting him now were much too real, although he wanted them to go away.

He was by himself when he didn't have to be. By now it had probably reached the agreed upon hour, but he assumed that she was already ordering from a different menu. That thought had his fists clenching at the unfairness of it all. He didn't know whom to be more upset at.

His phone vibrated and he jumped, pulling it out and finding a short text on his main screen.

_I'm_ _so_ _sorry_ _that_ _we_ _didn't_ _get_ _to_ _have_ _lunch!_ _Can_ _we_ _try_ _again_ _tomorrow?_

Spite immediately answered her text in a mental 'no'. He didn't want to hope against hope that such an occurrence wouldn't transpire again, only to have her repeat the action and break his anticipation into tiny pieces a second time. But, a large part of him still wanted to spend time with her.

He growled at his own mixed emotions, using the desk as a grateful stabilizer for his arms as he threw his head in his hands. The phone lay on his desk with the screen black and he stared through his fingers at it.

He didn't want to answer her right now. He felt like anything he said wouldn't be construed well and he was too much of a mess to be able to create something from the proper emotion. Her apology meant nothing, even though it knocked a hole in the resentment that was causing his frown. He sat back with a heavy sigh, fingers itching to type something that was reassuring and wishful, but his arms held them back.

Yesterday had been the same way. Every possible opportunity was changed to a deplorable one. It repeated itself today; would tomorrow be the same? Samuel had every right to spend time with his daughter, but he also wanted to as well. Those twenty-four hours had effectively created a leash around his neck, the chain connecting all the way back to her hand.

He had long noticed that he had trouble saying 'no' to her. It was a serious problem that he meagerly attempted to fix, but then gave up on after a while since it was easier to do what she wanted and thus be closer to her in the end. Despite holding the chains in her presence, he still couldn't stay away from her.

“ _You_ _make_ _me_ _weak._ _You_ _make_ _me_ _dream._ _”_

He had let himself get to this point from her many words and touches. They destroyed everything he had created for himself after he became too attached to Gwen and was betrayed by her. He swore never again and fled the place he grew up in, hoping to jog himself from that pain of unrequited emotions and start over somehow.

In this second, he felt like he was back at that starting point.

A hand covered his eyes as he contemplated what to do. He didn't want more of these instances to happen with his only time together being on one or two paltry days of the week. His fencing lessons would make it hard to spend his evenings with her, but he wasn't going to give them up. She had her Friday night gathering and he wasn't going to force her to forgo that for his selfish wishes of spending time with her. If Saturday was all that they had outside of their shared work schedule, something that was quickly becoming mere co-workers passing each other in the hallway, then there was no good time they had.

Things were starting to unravel as his emotions ironed themselves out again. He truly wondered just what they were doing together despite the chemistry they both agreed they had. He got lost in her and all the innocence she offered, fully eating up the looks and touches she directed his way. Her words were pretty and influential. She was everything he lacked and the flame he previously extinguished became an inferno to warm his cold heart. He rode the tides, unable to swim against them anymore with as much as she washed over him.

Did she want to be with him? Going by all of her words, caresses, and their time in his apartment, he had to assume 'yes'. Did she want to stand up for that to the people who also mattered the most to her? He floundered, unable to answer that. Her actions today didn't match her words, as was the same with many people he used to care about and believe. The old pattern had him picking up the metal pieces scattered over the space they had fallen onto, the heat of his emotions recrafting the chains and testing the weight in his hands again.

He stood and exited the room, knowing that keeping himself cooped up in a small environment with no other stimuli wasn't going to help him think clearly. He stood and made sure he had everything for a trip out, bidding Lucy a good lunch and leaving the main door.

He wanted to believe he meant something to her, but it was hard. After an entire week of building up everything with her, of tearing down the walls meant to save him from these worries, and fearing he held a place in her heart similar to what she did in his, he didn't know.

“ _I_ _d_ _–_ _don't_ _even_ _know_ _if_ _I'd_ _want_ _a_ _relationship_ _either._ _I've_ _never_ _planned_ _on_ _getting_ _married,_ _or_ _even_ _d_ _–_ _dating._ _”_

He should've listened to his insecurities. They had been created for a reason and yet he shoved them away for the ability to feel again. To want someone. To be wanted. It had been years since he knew the warmth she lavished on him and it had been nice. Perhaps too nice. He had forgotten everything and perhaps needed to take a step back.

His phone rang, but he ignored it for a moment. He would be able to check it once he got to...any place he hadn't even considered yet. He didn't know where he was going, but all he knew was he certainly didn't feel like visiting the place she suggested as it sounded less than appealing right now. Perhaps one of his usual, which she could never afford and didn't feel the social ability to frequent. It might help calm him, put him back to himself a little more, and then he might find his wits.

When he finally managed to get back to the forgotten call, his eyes widened at a number he had missed and had really needed to get in contact with. He placed his order and mulled the whole thing over a glass of wine, stopping halfway before he lost his wits and returned the phone call, feeling a little unsettled by the whole thing, yet at peace all the same as he discussed the extended absence of an answer they also had been waiting on and were looking for right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet Samuel used to play football. Because he is just good at plowing through everyone to get what he wants. ^_^;;  
> Poor Charles. Building himself up only to fall down and get hurt. Again.


	25. giving you up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It's for the best Mr. Young.” He quietly admitted. “I will not be able to work next to your daughter knowing that there is something we could have had together. Her honesty and affections are quite persuasive and I...allowed myself to get more attached than I thought I was going to. I fought it, but everything that she has to give I found I was severely lacking in my life. I won't be able to look at the 'what if's' after knowing exactly what they are.”

Wednesday morning was cloudy, but it was perfect. The sky was gray and threatened rain, but it would've been worse had things been blue skies with birds singing outside. He didn't want any of that, even though he told himself he was just being narrow-minded.

“ _I'm_ _so_ _sorry_ _that_ _dad_ _did_ _that_ _again_ _Charles._ _I_ _told_ _him_ _I_ _wasn't_ _happy_ _with_ _the_ _fact_ _that_ _he_ _dragged_ _me_ _out_ _of_ _there_ _like_ _a_ _prisoner._ _”_

“ _Did_ _you_ _ever_ _mention_ _that_ _you_ _also_ _had_ _plans_ _for_ _lunch_ _with_ _someone_ _else_ _before_ _he_ _left_ _the_ _parking_ _lot?_ _Before_ _you_ _stepped_ _inside_ _the_ _restaurant?_ _”_

“ _He_ _didn't_ _give_ _me_ _the_ _option_ _to_ _until_ _a_ _waiter_ _shoved_ _a_ _menu_ _in_ _my_ _face._ _By_ _then_ _I_ _felt_ _so_ _bad,_ _but_ _I_ _ended_ _up_ _ordering_ _anyway._ _I_ _really_ _wanted_ _to_ _eat_ _with_ _you_ _and_ _not_ _him._ _I_ _hope_ _you_ _can_ _believe_ _me!_ _”_

“ _I_ _do_ _believe_ _you_ _Miss_ _Young._ _What_ _distressed_ _me_ _was_ _that_ _I_ _never_ _heard_ _such_ _things_ _from_ _you_ _when_ _I_ _witnessed_ _your_ _father_ _trying_ _to_ _lead_ _you_ _away._ _”_

“ _I_ _did_ _try_ _to_ _make_ _him_ _stop,_ _but_ _he's_ _just_ _so_ _much_ _stronger_ _than_ _I_ _am!_ _I_ _didn't_ _have_ _any_ _other_ _way_ _to_ _get_ _him_ _to_ _let_ _go_ _of_ _me._ _”_

He brushed off everything she had to say after that, telling her that what was done was done and there was no sense hashing over it again. He didn't want to try and make her see that her words alone would have been sufficient in getting him to see reason, as Samuel would listen only to his daughter. Had Charles attempted words, Samuel would have shut him down in a second, just as when he was ordered to go back in his office at the scuffle just outside it.

The sad thing was that he believed her sincerity. The annoying thing was when she finally stole space from her father, claiming she needed to go over something with Charles in his office for privacy and concentration, had him caving from those doe-like eyes. Her nearness was his undoing and thus he allowed her to speak what she wanted, let her hug him in her apology, but not letting her kiss him as she attempted. He doubted he would have been able to finish the rest of that day a sane man and would have rescinded everything. He would have taken her in his arms, confessed that he was being narrow-minded and was merely upset that he lost his few precious moments with her.

He didn't miss the let down look on her face, the stutter that returned to her speech, before she left for her office. He slightly hated himself for bringing it back.

He told himself to stop being stupid and that she didn't mean any harm, even if it injured him a little in the process. He was about ready to get over himself and had managed to knock on her door after hours, prepared to give her a ride home as usual to mend things, more for his benefit than hers. It was a tad annoying that Samuel was already there, butting in by offering in Charles's stead with watery eyes that he wanted to spend more time with her. The worst was that she accepted, looking at him in sadness as she hesitantly did so. He left the room a little relieved, yet more dejected that any small glimpse of her had been ripped away.

He knew he was being petty and had made his decision from one instance. It wasn't the first time that he had acted that way when she did something he misunderstood and retaliated coldly because of it. His heart couldn't take the hit to it, what she didn't even do on purpose.

But, multiple times?

He wanted to ask if she knew she was doing, if she was aware that her words were hurtful. Monday was the last time he had been able to give her a ride, had been able to be next to her, to kiss and hold her. To even speak with her for more than five seconds. The beautiful dream he had with her was now turning into a nightmare he wasn't able to wake from and go back to.

'Perhaps this was exactly how Romeo and Juliet felt at the ending.' He pondered, backing his car out of his parking space at the apartment.

The car ride was quiet, an odd comfort in an old-fashioned way. It had only been a few weeks since he drove with a mostly empty mind and heart, yet it was difficult to readjust to. It felt uncomfortable. He left the car in the underground parking, headed up in silence with the rest of the carpool employees, hardly listening in as they chatted away and exited after they did.

This was normal. This was his life. It was hard to get back to, but by the time he greeted Lucy as he always did, by himself, he felt more comfortable and in the previous swing of things.

The open door across his office with the voices coming from inside wasn't.

He paused and listened just before he passed her doorway, fist tightening a little on his briefcase as all the doubt at his decision yesterday hit him. He mentally scolded himself for being such a simpering idiot and to just greet her as usual, whether Samuel was in there or not. There was nothing wrong with a co-worker greeting the other after all. Even if she was really special to him.

The whole Samuel issue was something he wouldn't need to worry about soon anyway.

“Good morning Miss Young. Mr. Young.”

“Jones. You're early.”

“Charles! Don't go just yet!”

He paused in the doorway he was halfway through, brows up in befuddlement at the urgent tone. He looked at the other side of the room as Samara headed to the table in the middle of her office and grabbed a cup of coffee from her usual establishment.

“I'm so sorry that I didn't get to eat lunch with you yesterday. I explained to dad this morning that he was wrong to do that, but I haven't been able to get him to apologize. But, I'm sorry that I put you out like that.” Dark brown looked slightly hopeful through raised brows, the coffee hoisting a little higher in its delicate cradle for him to take.

He didn't feel the briefcase in his hand, nor the width of his eyes and height of his brows. He could hardly register looking at the jolting from the cup, to her eyes, to Samuel on the couch, Samara's smile, then back to the cup. He felt like he looked between her and the drink half a dozen times, mind unable to find anything to say.

He couldn't find the empty hand at his side to be able to pick it up. He dumbly blinked a few times, mouth opening without words.

“Charles?”

He jumped, Samara's unsure tone thankfully jogging his stupor and his hand mechanically took it. “You have my gratitude Miss Young.” His murmured, eyes softening on their own. The heat transferred up his arm to his heart where it cracked the thin layer he had placed around it last night. He couldn't help the smile on his face as he brought the plastic lid to his lips and took a small swig.

It was delicious, like it always was. He took a step back, inclining his head and bid her a good day before turning for his office and leaving her door open for her to close at her leisure. He clicked his shut and set everything in its usual spot, placing the coffee next to his laptop and stared at The Daily Grind logo as it woke up.

There was a knock on his door that had his eyes changing positions for a second before bidding the unknown person to enter.

“Jones. My office real quick.”

He supposed that such a thing was inevitable. Samuel had been rather quiet on singling him out for a meeting and he wondered when it would pop up. Apparently, the coffee was over the limit and too suspicious to be left alone.

“Coming Mr. Young.”

He was thankful her door was closed and that Samuel wasn't being his usual loudness. He didn't want Samara brought into this, even if she was apart of it. It would have been nice to get her involved for a final showdown, but this was going to work more in his favor than he thought.

“Sit down Jones. I want to talk to you.” Samuel mumbled, taking the posh seat behind his own desk. He sighed, tapping a hand on the armrest and looking openly disgruntled.

“Would you like me to begin Mr. Young?” Charles asked after a moment, not feeling as nervous as he feared he would at a topic he managed to avoid until now.

“I'm...having trouble with words.” Samuel confessed with a frown. “I'm not too sure whether I'm more upset at the attention you're bestowing Sam or the slight betrayal at spending time with her while I'm gone. I had a feeling you would do something while I was away and it's sad that I'm right.”

Charles stayed quiet, not wanting to speak until he knew it was safe to do so.

Samuel heaved a sigh and twirled in his chair to the immense portrait behind him. “I'm grateful that you put me on that plane. Really I am. It was a time I needed more than I thought, even though I missed my children. But to find how close you had gotten to Sam while I was gone made me wonder just how much longer you had been spending time with her without my knowing.” Samuel whirled his chair back around, hard eyes meeting blue. “She's a shy, sweet girl and she doesn't accept the advances of men that easily. How long have you been...familiar with her?”

Charles took a deep breath, mentally phrasing his words and how he wanted to direct things. He easily foresaw Samuel's head blowing up as it often did whenever any male was near his precious daughter. “I did not put you on that plane just so I could spend time with your daughter Mr. Young. I will admit that it did transpire during your absence, however, as you are probably aware since your return on Monday.”

“It was hard to miss in the morning, at lunch, and after hours for two days.” Samuel wryly returned, brow up.

Charles's lips tilted before looking to the desk. “I know what you must think of me before and after I got close with Miss Young, Mr. Young. I will say that while none of that is any of your business -”

“How is -”

“I will assure you,” He smoothly broke in, “that you don't need to worry about a thing.”

“Of course I'm going to worry!” Samuel burst out, hands slamming on his desk as he rose to lean over them. “I didn't go to Hawaii so you could make a move on my only daughter!” Samuel quickly cleared his throat and plopped in the chair, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Listen Jones...you proved that you are a fantastic employee and I really appreciate the recent help with my family and all, but I don't approve of you getting cozy with Sam.” Dark brown, stern eyes, met blue. “Period. Whatever it was that you thought you were doing needs to stop today. I don't want to see anything more than professional co-worker behavior and that damned ride home you feel the need to give her that I also don't approve of.”

He knew it was going to be this way, but hearing it didn't make it sit any better.

It was an odd blessing and great timing when Samuel left the mainland for the islands and while Charles had never meant to make a move on Samara during that week Samuel was gone, it just happened. Or perhaps the Hawaii endeavor was the opportunity for what had been blossoming between them already. However, this conversation only cemented the obvious and the next step he ended up taking. “It's actually good that you brought up such things Mr. Young.” Charles steepled his fingertips, feeling his heart shudder a little and it also took a second to get the words out. They were going to be permanent and no taking them back, but it had to be done. The alternative wasn't more desirable.

Samuel helped make the choice clear in a roundabout way and should probably be thanked for such. He pointed out an obvious flaw which had been hidden until a few days ago.

“I will be open and honest in saying that I was interested in your daughter. She's a bright, kind, sweet, and very caring individual. She is a treasure any man would want.” Charles held up a hand with a sigh when Samuel opened his mouth. “I understand how proud you are of her because I am as well. I will admit that I courted her for the time you were gone, but I have recently come to realized my folly in such things. Your daughter does not see anything permanent in me as I thought I saw in her. It took your intervention to make me notice that. I suppose I should give my gratitude for the aide in helping me from making another huge mistake.” His lips twitched a little sadly.

“I'm confused. You just said you had spent time with her and now you're giving her up? You're not playing with her are you Jones?”

“I would never Mr. Young.” He responded, shaking his head. “I'm not only giving her up, I would like to speak to you about my position in your company. I'd like to offer it to Miss Young.”

Samuel blinked in confusion, head tilting. “I'm happy that she wanted to learn under you for when she replaces me in the future, but I have no other place to put you Jones.”

“Exactly Mr. Young. This is why I'm putting in my two week's notice with you right now. And I nominate Miss Young to be my capable replacement. She has been working under me for over a month now and has a good handle on the basic training. There are things you will want to help her learn concerning client meetings, but overall, I believe she will do just fine once she gets her feet wet.”

Samuel stared, face agape for what felt like minutes. The pair stared at each other, Charles's face passive, though feeling strange in his decision the more the seconds passed by. He had worked at Young Technologies for years and it was a place he fled to for safety too soon after his broken marriage. Now he was returning to the British Isles to partially run away from another woman and back to whence he came just as quickly.

Life really was funny that way.

“Are you...sure about this?” Samuel sputtered, using the seat to keep him upright. “I don't want you to quit your job! I just don't want you dating my daughter!”

Charles sighed and looked away, some more forlorn emotions coming out. He purposely let them, knowing that being honest with Samuel wouldn't hurt him in this. While he had made an ass out of himself long ago and there was nothing to be done about that, he had hoped some of that damage had been repaired over the years. All of the good work he had done as the general manager would never be enough to sway Samuel and knock his daughter off the pedestal he had hoisted her to years ago to give her up. No matter how much he worked to be a shining star in his employer's eyes, he would never be good enough and Samuel would keep interfering as he had done for half the week.

What was worse was so long as Samara chose her family over him from these tiny things and never gave them a chance aside from a few paltry days out of the week, he was doomed to stand in the sidelines wondering just when she would make some time for him and speak her mind as she dared this morning.

That part had shocked him. She said something about it, albeit grossly late, but she mentioned it. In retrospect, he only wished she had dug her heels in much earlier and saved the letdown he went through by hoping for something that again didn't happen. He knew he wouldn't last if such things kept occurring and it was best to stop that train of problems before it got worse.

“It's for the best Mr. Young.” He quietly admitted. “I will not be able to work next to your daughter knowing that there is something we could have had together. Her honesty and affections are quite persuasive and I...allowed myself to get more attached than I thought I was going to. I fought it, but everything that she has to give I found I was severely lacking in my life. I won't be able to look at the 'what if's' after knowing exactly what they are.” He took a deep breath and stood, needing to get some air and focus on work to take his mind off things. To the worry that he was making a big mistake, and yet not able to get over his own insecurities concerning all of this. “I'll train Miss Young in as much as I can think of to help her out before I am gone. If there's nothing else that you need of me, I'll take my leave.”

Samuel was stunned for enough heartbeats that he used it to his advantage and headed out of the office. He merely nodded Lucy's way when she raised an eyebrow at him in question and silently headed back to his office.

He couldn't believe he had done it. It felt strange to be in a place he had spent countless hours and soon he wouldn't anymore. He would work for Ellesmere as a client for Young Technologies and perhaps in the future converse with one of his own team over the needs of a new company. It was hard to wrap his head around such a concept.

Thankfully he had a few meetings that would keep the future at bay for a little longer until he was able to process it further. A knock on his door didn't help him try to get back to them however.

“Charles? Are you in there?”

He sighed a little. Was fate trying to mock him from choosing his own path? “Come in Miss Young.”

She almost peeked into the room, smiling his way to find him looking at her. She closed the door and stopped in front of his desk. Her fingers twiddled together. “Um...I know I've been really horrible to you the last few days and I feel really bad about that.” Her eyes kept darting from her fingers to him, finding his face expressionless. “Do you...want to go out for lunch at that spot we originally intended? I made sure to tell dad that I wasn't eating with him today.”

There was a swelling in his chest and he felt like he was on the edge of a fence, staring at two very different worlds. One being his current decision he had made and the other with rescinding it all and taking her in his arms, damned Samuel's interference. He stared at his laptop, breath lodged in his throat, feeling unsure at everything he had just convinced himself on.

'No. Don't be swayed by this. It's just one instance.'

She had that power over him and he was only aware of the extent in this second. With those deep brown eyes, timid smile, perfect figure, blatant honesty, and beautiful sweetness, she had the ability to have him on his knees begging for forgiveness at wanting to leave her forever. She didn't even know he was going to do it and that was probably for the best for now.

A huge part of him wanted to accept. It was just lunch. They were co-workers after all. While it was innocent, their relationship was not and it wasn't a good idea. He would cave and he knew it. Just because he got this one time with her didn't mean tomorrow was going to be any different. Accepting now would put him right back to prancing around her, waging his tail at any attention she bestowed. Samuel was painfully aware of his interest in her now and had a history of getting in between them. Samara also had a record of giving in to her loved ones and not standing up for herself in anything that involved her. It seemed she only saw what she had done after the damage happened and made amends as opposed to thinking ahead to how others felt and taking note of things that were said and the possible promise in those words.

He sighed and covered his mouth with his hand, not feeling confident enough to speak in this second. He wanted to say 'yes' so badly, but it wouldn't help him. If they went to lunch, he would want to kiss her in the car and in either office upon return. He would want to give her a ride home and spend the evening together, whether it was at her place or his. He would want to touch her in places he had only been allowed one single day of. His greed would need more, would want daily recurrences and he knew he wouldn't get that. Her Friday nights would never be his, just like his teachings could not be rescheduled or passed along to another teacher which didn't exist.

“Um...it's just lunch. Is that a difficult thing to answer?” She lamely cracked, smile falling a little when he didn't return the look. “Uh... Well...I guess that since you haven't said anything yet, I'll assume that's a n – no?”

He looked to the laptop and pulled up his email. “I was in a sudden meeting with your father Miss Young and it has put me a little behind. I don't believe it wise to take more time out today than I should so that I can get ahead for tomorrow. I suggest you do the same.”

The blatant rejection with hardly any intonation, and one which felt cold at that, had her taking a step back from it. Everything which had blossomed and shone in the sun suddenly shriveled up against the ice blowing against it. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, unable to find proper words at anything other than a 'yes'. She looked to the floor, the room feeling highly awkward.

“Um...yea...okay.” Her hand fumbled for the doorknob as she turned. She looked over her shoulder at him, but he didn't look her way. Her brow furrowed upward and she felt a stab in her chest which made her eyes water. “Charles?” She turned when he didn't look at her and closed his door again, taking a step into the room. “Did...did I...do something wrong?” Trembling fists clenched at her sides. “I...I don't...understand...”

His jaw grit at the wobble in her voice and he hated how he wanted to hold her and cast away the resolve he was trying to hold onto. The chains he had only recently crafted shook in his grip and his hands were unaccustomed to holding them, glad for the rest and too weak to be strong. He tried to look to his email, brow furrowed a little as his muscles clenched to take him out of his seat.

'Don't. Don't do it. Stay put. Don't be swayed!'

“Ch...Charles?” Sniff. “I'm...I'm sorry if I hurt you yesterday. I...I didn't mean to. I really wanted to...spend time with you.” A hand wiped a tear away, trying to take a few steady breaths. Her chin trembled a little as she stood at the edge of his desk, fingers clenched in the hem of her shirt. “W – would you please l – look at me?”

He finally acquiesced, but it was a mistake. He cringed a little at how broken up she looked, how it was all directed his way in her eyes. The sadness, confusion, and wonder. She looked like she wanted to touch him, but was holding herself from doing so because she didn't know if he wanted her to. While he did want to, it wasn't a good idea.

He swiveled in the chair and slowly brought his hands to hers, gently prying her fingers apart and staring as he lightly held them.

“Miss Young...I believe that...there has been a mistake made...”

“I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to Charles!”

He squeezed her hands a little to silence her. “I don't mean by you. I meant by me.” He stared at the difference in size of digits and palms, slowly releasing her. He stood and looked down at her, fingers twitching to wipe her tears away. “I was wrong and I apologize.”

“For what?”

“I was wrong to get involved. I apologize if you feel like I led you on. I forgot myself and everything I explained weeks ago. I've come to realize how incorrect I was. I don't believe it's a good idea if things continue between us.”

She couldn't feel her feet, could only stare into chagrined blue as she felt more tears fall. She screamed in her head, but words wouldn't come out. She felt like stone for the longest time until her head shook a little by itself, not able to stop. “No...” She whispered. The noise met her ears and her hands latched out and grasped his dress shirt. “No! Why?! What did I do wrong?! There was...we were...you...the apartment...that day...I...I don't get it! What am I missing? What did I mess up? Was it because of that lunch? Was it because dad gave me a ride home when you usually did?”

He told himself to stay still, to let her get it out. He deserved the outburst, even though he wanted to do the same. He wanted to be honest and tell her what hurt him the most, but it would rewind everything back to where he had steeped in for days on end. It was hard to stand his ground in the place he had now put himself in with her standing in front of him. After she had crumbled his walls to dust and left him nothing to hide behind. “Miss Young -”

“It's...Samara, Ch – Charles.”

“Miss Young,” He quietly repeated, “a few things were made clear to me in these last few days that made me think perhaps I was right and we should have just salvaged what decorum between us that was left before it got too far.” He sighed a little, breaking eye contact. “I apologize that I didn't have an opportunity to tell you sooner. I just found this out last night.”

“What...what happened?” She took a step forward, hand raising to touch his cheek, rest on his chest, anywhere, but he grasped her wrist before she could finish. She looked to a grip that she could very easily pull from and felt it hard to breathe, even though her heart wasn't beating fast. There was a huge weight on her chest and it kept piling on from his words.

Everything she had shared with him, all of the platonic hugs, the time together, the teasing, the lust, the sex, the tender moments, his tears, her being there for him, all plunged into dark, icy cold water. She felt like the last few weeks had suddenly blown away in a dust storm and out of reach by the subdued look in his eyes, in the even line of his mouth.

“Why?” She whispered, shuffling as close as she could. “What did I do? How...is there any way I can fix this? I don't know how many more times I can apologize. I'll say 'I'm sorry' a million times if you want Charles.”

He had heard 'sorry' so many times after That Day. It was a cheap word that meant nothing anymore, even though a part of him wanted to accept it. She had said she was sorry for the last few days, but nothing changed. He didn't want to be always accepting it after after the fact.

The grip on her hand increased just a little in his frustration. He felt doomed to think he found happiness only to have it flung as far from him as it could. “I...don't want an apology Miss Young.” He mumbled, looking away sullenly.

“Then what else can I do?! Tell me and I'll do it! You're so special to me and I don't want to lose you Charles! I thought there was something real between us!”

Steel blue whipped back to shimmering brown. Her words stung more than she ever considered and his eyes narrowed a little. His hand lowered and let go of hers as his fell to his side before his irritation had his hands squeezing hers in pain. “Not once -” He paused, but had dropped the chains and lost the only control he had worked on since last night. “Not once did I hear you stick up for 'us' to your father.”

She blinked, brow going up in confusion. “What? Stand up to...? What was I supposed to do? He's my father; he just wanted to spend time with me Charles. I know it was the worst timing, but what could I have done?”

He scoffed a little, a sardonic smile on his face. “This -” He looked away, feeling spiteful all over again. Hurt eyes whipped back to hers. “What is your point in time together with me? What are you looking to get from it?”

Her head jerked back at his assumptions. “Wha...” She dumbly blinked wide eyes. “I'm not...I just want to be with you. Didn't we discuss something like that at that restaurant that day? I know I messed it up with that stupid drink, but I thought things were working out somehow. You let me make the choice and I did.”

“Why? What do you want from me?”

“Want? What kind of thing is that to ask?”

“A valid point.” He sighed and looked away, feeling upset only grow at her words. He thought he had made that clear over the weekend, but perhaps not. “I stipulated everything that day to make sure there was no confusion. You also made things clear when you said you had no intentions on dating anyone and didn't consider anything serious for yourself. Yet you haven't acted like that. You act like you want to spend time with me, but when someone else close comes looking for the same thing, I seem to be the first cast aside for their attention.” He leaned a little closer, looking into widening eyes. “I refuse to let such things continue with 'I'm sorry' the only way to help you realize that what happened was perhaps a mistake only after such things occurred.”

He stepped back and stared at her. He could see her befuddlement at his words and shook his head. “What do you mean when you said I am 'special' to you Miss Young? Do you even know? You may have wanted me to teach you carnal desire, but did you consider what might have happened on my side of things? That perhaps such a land is not just about appeasing physical desire?”

She stared at him blankly, unable to form proper words despite desperately searching for answers. “I...I don't know what you're talking about!” She finally burst out. “I never knew any of it...” She stared at the floor hard, a hand roughly wiping her tears. “Yes I asked you to teach me. To teach me because I know nothing about that world. Everyone has always kept me so sheltered that I never knew anything and had no interest until now. Not...until you Charles. You made me feel important and I was curious.”

“Is that all?”

Her eyes jerked to his, at a loss for words. Her mouth opened. “I...”

He sat back down and stared at her, arm using the chair's resting spot to keep his tired head upright. His lips tightened as he fought to ask more questions. The more she talked, the more he became confident in his decision. She had no idea what she was doing and while it wasn't directly leading him on, her utter nativity wasn't a good thing right now. She turned to anyone that needed her, forgetting that perhaps she was already supposed to be attending to someone in that second.

“If you don't know how to answer that question Miss Young, perhaps you should take some time and consider it.” He swiveled in the desk, despondent, hard eyes on his laptop. “I've said all I will say on the topic. Please return to your office and keep working. I am now farther behind than I was moments ago and must get caught up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else need any aloe for that burn? XD


	26. ironing out feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samuel was oddly silent. No outbursts, no waterfalls, no pleading to be his little baby pumpkin peachy poo. She almost warily looked at him, eyes darting around his features as if someone was going to rip the mask off his face and show an alien had taken over his body. "Dad...are you...okay?" She hedged.

She didn't know how she got back to her office. It wasn't even that far away, but she didn't register it until she landed against the inside of the door as it clicked closed.

Her lungs hurt. She couldn't breathe more so than the normal, asthmatic context. There was a heavy weight like none other that she'd ever experienced until now and it refused to move. She blankly stared across the room to the bright windows until the gasps and wheezes required her to get her inhaler or faint on the floor.

She moved to it, bumping into her desk as she tried to round it, and winced at the bruise she was going to have on her thigh later. The pain jogged her to reality a little and she was slightly thankful for it as she made a beeline to her bag. She shook her head as lightheadedness assaulted her and finally clutched the plastic device. She slumped into the office chair and took a few puffs, head falling back in need of a stable resting spot.

Her eyes remained closed as she tried to get air in and out in a set pattern again, but it was hard. Tears clouded her vision and she let them fall, confusion and upset covering her. The pressure increased, her breathing not stabilizing. A few cries made themselves known and she turned to slump over her desk, head resting on her forearms. She let her tears fall onto her skin, desk, and glasses.

She didn't understand it and desperately wished there was a way she could find her feet and march right back into his office demanding a better explanation. Obviously, they needed to sit and talk about this, but when she asked for how she could get his forgiveness, he seemed hesitant to go into full detail about it all. There were a few times he had shut down like this, but they were all easily cleared up before. She didn't know what was so different about this case that a few moments in either office couldn't fix.

She tried to think of all that he had said. She felt like he was almost accusing her of using him for...whatever, she didn't even know!

_"What_ _do_ _you_ _want_ _from_ _me?_ _”_

“ _Is_ _that_ _all?_ _”_

She finally straightened enough to rest her head in her palms, leaving her tears where they were. She didn't understand what he was asking, but she had to figure this out! She wasn't going to leave something like this to rot in between them and force them apart. That day at his apartment was genuine; she saw how different he acted as opposed to the first time he kissed her in this office. She didn't want to think that those tears of his were fake and forced. The words he breathed when he thought she was sleeping were real; the look on his face proved that.

On Monday he visited her office in the morning, at lunch, and for a ride home. They were all opportune times that he could get away with even though her father was there. Charles timed them appropriately so that, even once he saw her father in her office that morning, he could come back later in hopes the man wasn't there. Tuesday saw less of Charles, but still at times he tried to spend time with her.

Thinking back on what her father did made her feel even worse all over again. She loved him, but she really wanted to spend that time with Charles instead of the opposition. The weekend had been so magical and she was worried that was it. It was nice to see him Monday morning, although Samuel killed that emotion quite efficiently. She had hoped to get a good morning kiss out of Charles at the very least and a lunch every day. Her father also deserved her time, but he had almost butt in unnecessarily so.

“ _I_ _was_ _in_ _a_ _sudden_ _meeting_ _with_ _your_ _father_ _Miss_ _Young_ _and_ _it_ _has_ _put_ _me_ _a_ _little_ _behind."_

Her eyes shot open, body pushing off from her desk so quickly that she rolled back a few inches. Wide eyes stared at the wall as pieces started fleshing themselves out.

This morning when she gave Charles his routine coffee gift, he gave her a kind look that showed up despite her father's presence on the couch. She knew he wouldn't act all stoic if it had been just her in the room.

She adopted a deep frown, hands turning to fists. 'He wouldn't...' She rolled her eyes with a sudden scoff. 'Who am I kidding? Of course he would!'

She knew her father well enough and his behavior hadn't changed over the years. He was always overprotective, even though he had his reasons for it. His paranoia at her safety knew no bounds and it had unconsciously forced her to become who she was today, for good or bad.

She looked to the clock on her computer and figured he'd either be at lunch by now or probably in his office. He could be with a client, but she didn't really care; he had interrupted her life one time too many in the last few days and it was time for a little taste of his own medicine.

She quickly stood and shoved the chair into the shelving behind. It lightly banged against things, but she paid it no mind as she all but stalked from the space and threw the door open. She paused and stared at Charles's closed office door, brows furrowing upward as the fire fizzled out a little. The doorknob bit into her palm as she resisted the urge to visit his office first. She wanted nothing more than to insist that there had been the biggest misunderstanding and she was going to do as he mentioned a few times before which was talk to her father.

“ _Not_ _once_ _did_ _I_ _hear_ _you_ _stick_ _up_ _for_ _'us'_ _to_ _your_ _father._ _”_

She didn't know what he was talking about then as she was too emotional to be able to think straight. When she thought back to the many times her father verbally booted Charles from her sight and she meekly stood there without telling her father that Charles had every right to be in the same room with them. She let all of those instances happen and let her father trample all over Charles. She never made her own wishes known. Not once. Her hand trembled in its grip and she almost forced herself to let go, shaking it a few times to relax the muscles.

“ _Sooner_ _or_ _later_ _you'll_ _need_ _to_ _decide_ _if_ _you_ _want_ _to_ _stand_ _up_ _to him_ _for_ _the_ _sake_ _of_ _a_ _relationship,_ _whether_ _it's_ _me_ _or_ _not._ _You'll_ _need_ _to_ _level_ _with_ _him_ _and_ _make_ _him_ _see_ _that_ _someone_ _who_ _wants_ _to_ _be_ _with_ _you_ _isn't_ _an_ _evil_ _person._ _”_

He was right and she would make it up to him. She had hurt him unintentionally so, by not thinking. She made excuses for her dad's behavior when it wasn't entirely deserving of them. Perhaps on Monday when Samuel was always in her office he missed her like he kept mentioning, but once he had seen Charles repeatedly come in and out, he must have known something was up. Samuel knew very well she had work to do, as did he, but he came in and the timing was very similar to when Charles kept attempting the same with her.

If he purposely was wedging himself in between her and Charles, she was going to give him what for. She was a grown adult and could make her own decisions! Jay had tried to keep her away from Charles as well, although she had no trouble telling him off then. She didn't know why it was so hard to repeat herself to Samuel, other than he was her father and, as she loved him and wanted to make him happy, it often times was to her detriment.

She sighed and shook her head. There were a good number of things she apparently needed to work on if she wanted to mend things with Charles. She still didn't know exactly how he thought she was playing him, but that was a talk later after the immediate problem. Once she finished straightening her father out, then she would take notes, think of things in further detail if needed, and take them to Charles for conversation.

She ignored Lucy's greeting and didn't bother knocking. She was too fired up right now to care about manners and needed to keep it up so she didn't lose steam in this. If she caved even once, she knew her dad would pounce on that. "Dad!" She nearly shouted, throwing the door open. She stared in the direction of his desk, intending on starting there to find him.

His back was to her, hands clasped behind him as he stared at her mother's picture, unmoving at her outburst.

He didn't turn her way, but she watched his shoulders raise and fall from a huge sigh. "Come in pumpkin. Please shut the door."

She blinked, most of the earlier irritation gone replaced with befuddlement at the subdued tone. Was he expecting her? That would make things a lot easier if he was. She quietly clicked the door shut and stopped in front of his desk, hands flat on wood. "Dad...I need to talk to you about something important."

"I know pumpkin. I've been waiting."

She blinked, brow going up. "Y - you...have?" She quickly took a seat when his hand waved to it, leaning over the desk a little. "Dad...you know you shouldn't have done that to Charles! That was wrong! He...he means a lot to me and you have to know that I...like him."

“ _What_ _is_ _your_ _point_ _in_ _time_ _together_ _with_ _me?_ _What_ _are_ _you_ _looking_ _to_ _get_ _from_ _it?_ _”_

“ _If_ _you_ _don't_ _know_ _how_ _to_ _answer_ _that_ _question_ _Miss_ _Young,_ _perhaps_ _you_ _should_ _take_ _some_ _time_ _and_ _consider_ _it._ _”_

She idly stared at the mahogany desktop as that word sunk into her brain. She had never taken time to name anything concerning her emotions for him until now and while it was an obvious thing if anyone saw them together, she was too much of a newb to know what she was feeling. Even though she called him special, her family and friends were also special. There was no experience to ever draw from and that short time with Link, she grossly read wrong. She mentally shook herself, shoving that whole bit aside. It may have been something of a revelation, but she needed to deal with the person in front of her first.

"Dad," She sternly broached, leaning over her knees, "I want you to back off on Charles. You've been giving him a hard time lately and all he's been doing is trying to spend time with me. There's nothing wrong with that. The last few days when he's come into my office, I wanted to go to lunch with him too. I didn't say anything to you at the time because I thought you just really missed me, but now I see you were doing it to push him away from me. I...like him dad. I like Charles and I want to spend more time with him where I can."

Samuel stared at his only daughter with tears in his eyes. A hand wiped a few away that tried to escape when he finally blinked. "You're so grown up pumpkin." He mumbled, unable to find other, better words in that second.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Exactly! I'm all grown up now and I should have the right to be interested in a guy. You can't rule over my life forever dad. You even said that you wanted grandkids one day. That means that you want me to have a family right? That means I have to date someone for that. I have to have feelings for someone. I can't do that if you're interfering at every step of my possible dating life!"

Samuel was oddly silent. No outbursts, no waterfalls, no pleading to be his little baby pumpkin peachy poo. She almost warily looked at him, eyes darting around his features as if someone was going to rip the mask off his face and show an alien had taken over his body. "Dad...are you...okay?" She hedged.

He sighed and rested a head in his hands. "Pumpkin, I think I may have made a big mistake and I didn't realize it until after the fact."

Her concern flared and she sat forward further. "Dad? What's wrong? What happened?"

Father and daughter locked eyes, one remorseful, the other worried. Samuel was silent for heartbeats before figuring it might as well be said outright. "I'm sorry Sam... I think I might end up letting Charles go."

Her hands slammed on the desk in a rush of adrenaline. "What?! Dad, no! You can't!"

"It was his choice Sam... He's decided to quit. You're right. I didn't have the right to step in. I think I made a big problem out of my own insecurities. He didn't sound like I could change his mind on this either. I did try, although I'm not too sure what else to say other than to tell him that he's a great worker and not to quit."

She couldn't hear much of what he had to say with her heart racing in her ears. She tried to pay attention, picking up things like 'giving up', 'replacement', and 'sadness' but not much else. Her breathing started to turn choppy, a telltale sign that she needed her inhaler.

Fists clenched, nails digging into her skin. Tears lined her eyes and fell despite how she tried to blink them back. She couldn't hear whatever it was he was trying to go into, not paying attention to the concerned looks as he rose from his chair. She numbly accepted his hands to help her stand, somehow putting one foot in front of the other for the door. She wanted to be embarrassed at how he helped her to her office, ignoring Lucy's concerned questions. She let her father take the reigns on that part as she idly stared at the floor.

She left his hold once they were past the doorway and went for the bag her eyes were locked with. She rummaged around, taking a few more puffs in the span of maybe an hour. She slunk in the chair, using her desk as a helper for her arms as her face fell in her hands.

This...couldn't be the end. How...why?! Said person in question was right across the way, but she knew she couldn't have a logical, honest conversation without breaking down even harder and making a huge mess out of things. The last time she freaked out in his company she ignored her inhaler and tried to push him away. While Charles didn't help calm her down much by trying to force her to present her project, he did quit the subject after enough pressure from her. That wasn't a resolution in the slightest and another misunderstanding came of it.

While it was a good idea to clear the air right now before Charles possibly made a colossal mistake due to her overall insecurities, they were too emotional over this. He asked her questions before that she couldn't answer and pushed her away before they even could hash it out. Granted, they were both at work, so that also wasn't the time to get into things. They both had a living to make and contracts weren't going to sit and wait for their feelings to get ironed out.

Her head moved just enough to allow her to eye her keyboard. Work. It was barely lunch and she had so much to do still, but it sounded as inviting as giving a public speech. Perhaps it was time to utilize a little vacation and do some heavy thinking. She never did through all of the emotional turmoil since the start of Charles's interest in her, so it might be okay just once. If luck was on her side, she could get time from him this evening and make him see reason...and she could do as he asked to figure out how she really felt about him.

“D...dad... Do you think...you could take me home? I c – can't...work right now. I'm sorry...”

"Of course pumpkin. Just let me go tell Lucy I'm heading out for a bit and I'll be back. Just get your things ready."

He was gone, the door quietly clicking shut behind him. 'This is so messed up... Why did it have to end up being this way?'

She had hoped that the beginning of this week would have been much better. She wanted to greet Charles with a hug and gentle kiss, wishing him a good day's work, go out to lunch with him, then agree to a ride home. While it had been torture to walk away from him that Sunday, it was even worse to be so far and yet so near.

She could hardly remember where her arms were and it was even worse to try and get them to move. Grabbing her bag and putting everything inside was laborious and Samuel was back long before she could get ready. She hardly heard him offer his assistance, let him gently take the bag out of her hands. She idly stared across the room, feeling him slowly help her from her chair.

She wanted to put on a brave face for all of those that she passed to his car. She knew that while she could wipe the tear tracks off her face, it didn't hide the red eyes and deep frown. The lost and helpless look that she couldn't fight. She only nodded Lucy's way, unable to respond to anything the woman questioned as they passed the main desk for the door to the outer section and the elevators.

Samuel was quiet the entire trek to the car, silently taking in the slight inability to walk, the very unhappy look, and marionette feel to her limbs. He helped her into the passenger's side before rounding to his own and putting the bag in her lap. “Pumpkin...” He softly broached, staring at the wheel. “I'm...so sorry. I didn't know Charles meant that much to you.”

She sniffed and looked away, biting her lip at the inability to find the right words immediately. She took a deep breath, mentally ordering herself to think straight, and looked to the hands resting on the bag. “He...does dad. A lot. I don't know j – just how...but I need to do that today. I...I don't want him to leave California. I don't know where he'd go, but I know it probably won't be merely across the city.”

“Well...he's from Wales. He may go back there.”

Her fingers clutched the fabric, jaw tight. That was half a world away, but it might as well been off the entire planet! She took a deep breath again, mentally telling herself that this wasn't the end. Charles hadn't left yet and tonight she would make him see reason. She would get answers for them and make him rescind that earlier decision!

“Dad,” She murmured, eyes out the passenger window, “you'll...leave me alone with Charles now right? Once I straighten out this mess, that's it? I won't have to worry about you butting in at every opportune moment that he's standing next to me?”

Samuel heaved a sigh, mouth tensed. “Part of me wants to say no, but I don't want to make you upset like this ever again pumpkin. It's going to be really hard for me to see you with another man. You're my baby girl pumpkin. You always will be.”

Her chin wobbled and she looked to him, finding tears swimming in his eyes as well. She was happy that he was pulling into her complex area so nothing happened on the way there.

She sighed and put a hand on his once he put the car in park. “Dad...I love you. Nothing will ever change that. You're always going to be the best. But...I don't want to be alone forever.” She looked down, thinking of doing exactly that in her apartment for the rest of the afternoon. “Charles...he's a good man. He's kind, thoughtful, intelligent, and he's sweet. He's so considerate toward me. He's never made me feel uncomfortable.” She blinked at familiar words, remembering what he said just before she head-butted him in his office. It had a whole new meaning and she flushed at it, soft smile forming.

“ _You make me have faith that there are good people in this world. Ones who would never betray those who are close to them.”_

Tears suddenly filled her eyes and a hand covered her mouth. She had just proved him wrong, but not on purpose. Her chin shook again, hands joining it. She jumped out of her reverie when a hand softly landed on her shoulder. She looked to the driver's side, rapid blinking making tears fall. “I'm...sorry...” She mumbled, hands wiping her cheeks. “I just realized that...I might have...hurt Ch – Charles more than I thought I could...” She took a shaky breath, taking off her glasses and covering her eyes. “D – dad...he's been so deeply hurt. I thought that...we had shared something special, but I...I didn't think of h – him almost at all this week. I think that I...messed up big time. I...I n – need to...fix this somehow...”

“I know I probably can't help you much from here pumpkin, but if you need anything from me, I'll do what I can in a heartbeat.” Samuel's brow furrowed up, feeling more than powerless at the tears of his beloved child. It was a stab to know that he was a huge contributor to everything. It made relenting a lot easier to deal with, even if his guilt refused to go away. “If you want, I can stay with you for a bit. Help you get inside and all that.”

“N – no...thanks dad.” She sniffed, quickly wiping her face dry. She took a few quick breaths to smooth out her emotions. A hand rapidly undid the buckle and she exited the car, looking in for a few seconds. “I plan on talking to Charles tonight. I'll give you more information when I can. I don't know when that'll be though...” She looked down. “I'm hoping that I can get him to agree to see me.”

“If he doesn't, I'll tie him to the chair in my office and you can use it to talk to him.”

She knew he was serious and yet it was so comical to think of her father actually roping Charles to that massive desk chair. It finally got a short laugh out of her and she was thankful for it. “Thanks dad. I'll talk to you later. Please don't say anything to Charles unless he insists. Just have him call me if he needs to talk to me about why I left.”

She said goodbye once more before closing the door and watching him drive off. The waving hand dropped, along with any semblance of positivity. She looked to the building, not feeling like going inside and yet that was what she came back early to do. 'I suppose if I were smarter, I should've just brought my laptop home so I could go over emails even a little...'

She sighed and shook her head. No...work wouldn't get done. It could take an entire hour to get through something like that because her mind wouldn't focus on what needed to happen for what she must do. “No time like the present I guess...” She mumbled, turning for the stairs.

It was a long walk up and not just because she was so many floors higher than she probably should be. Her legs trudged the whole way and it seemed to take forever to get to the one she lived on. She stared down the hallway, not feeling like being in the silence and sitting on her couch just staring at the kitchen area. She had a feeling she'd go stir crazy before proper details could be formed. 'I guess I can always take Bowser for a walk to clear my head...'

It still felt like it took five minutes to get barely halfway through the hallway for her door. She stood in front of it, not knowing just where to begin. “What...what am I supposed to figure out first? There's so much tied together.” Teeth nibbled on her lower lip, arms limp at her sides. Her eyes idly stared at the doorknob. “How am I supposed to figure out words to what I feel? I don't even know what they all are.”

“Are you okay Sam?”

She shrieked and whipped around, bag banging into the door, hand on her chest as she came face to face with a very confused Marshall. She gasped for air, praying she didn't need her inhaler yet again today and hoped the redness in her face left fast.

A raven brow went up, a snort leaving him as he took in how amusing she looked. “Is something the matter? You were talking to yourself in front of your door. You're not locked out are you?”

The grateful break in depressed thinking was snatched away for the problem at hand. Her head fell a little, shoulders following. “No...I just...” A hand lightly grasped the strap. “I have a huge problem I need to figure out and I'm not too sure where to start.”

Marshall's head tilted. “Oh? Need an ear? I've got two and I was just on my way to get my mail. It's not that important.”

Her brow furrowed upward. It would be so nice to lean on him, but she didn't want to start talking relationship problems with him when he had his own to get through. She'd feel guilty if she caused that sad look on his face again. “I...I couldn't Marshall. I would hate to be a bother.”

“Nonsense Sam!” He took the few steps to her and plopped his hand on a shoulder. “We're friends! That means you can talk to me about whatever is bothering you. You've done the same for me in the past and I want to help.” He gave an encouraging smile, leaning forward a little. “You want to take up your couch or mine?”

His concern was touching and she smiled, tearing up all over again. “Th...thanks Marshall...” She mumbled, looking down. Drowning in the main problem once more had her chin trembling a little. “It's...j – just that...Charles...”

The other hand found a free shoulder. “You pick a couch Sam and let's get into it. I want to give you a great big hug, but not in the hallway, yea?”

She jumped, looking around as if they had a crowd. She flushed a little and fished out her keys. “Right. Sorry. We can use my place. I know Bowser isn't going to like it, but he can always hide in my room for now.”

She shut the door behind him, dropping the bag on the counter for now and seeing Bowser halt in his tracks and look at the company next to her. “I know I'm early Bowser, but please wait a little to go out okay? I promise it'll be okay. He's not going to hurt you.” She looked over to find Marshall staring at Bowser, looking very much like he wanted to pick him up and cuddle him. “Would you like some water?” She asked, getting herself a glass.

“I'm good, thanks.” He answered, heading inside. “So this is what a normal apartment looks like. It looks so weird even though it's the same design just on the other side. Course, having a bed in the living room is strange enough.” He grinned, taking up a spot on the couch he was on a few weeks ago for video games.

She smiled a little, putting the half-drank cup on the coffee table and looking to it. She stared at it for heartbeats, the good mood he always seem to put her in dying as she tried to figure out where to begin. She jumped a little when he sat forward, elbows on his knees as he met her gaze.

“Do you need that hug now?” He asked, kind smile on his face.

Her shoulders fell again. The week had been long, full of ups, but many more downs. She nodded a little and scooted over to a pair of open arms that she didn't want to be Marshall's in that second. She wanted it to only be Charles to hold her again as he always had done. He might have teased her mercilessly on many more days than she often wanted, but he was always there to soothe the ruffled edges. As much as she wanted a hug, she also wanted to pull from the embrace.

“ _He talked about quitting because he couldn't work next to you like he had a year ago. He admitted that you two had...something while I was gone, but that he was giving you up. He wants you to succeed him in his position and that he'll train you for the two weeks until he leaves. I'm kind of baffled, but part of me doesn't want to know anyway.”_

“I'm so confused...” She confessed, unable to elaborate more. Tears lined her eyes at how overwhelming it all was. “I don't know what I feel. What I need to feel. What I should be feeling.”

“Can you back up a little and give me the backstory Sam?” Marshall pulled away enough to look at her. “I know a little about you having something going on with Charles, but that's it. I think the last I heard, you were going to doll yourself up for a date. That's been at least a week I think.”

That felt like a lifetime ago from where she was at emotionally. Back to when she didn't have the guts to kiss him, let alone take off her clothes in front of him.

She tried to build upon that section Marshall knew about. She kept most of the heat out, detailing how she had gotten closer to Charles and felt very flustered from all his attention. How he had kissed her and was talking about spending time together in a very non-committal kind of way. She left out the phone sex, but it was hard not to go into the Saturday date and what happened after since it was such a big part of the whole thing. She had a feeling they wouldn't be discussing serious relationship issues if it wasn't for the extended time in his apartment.

“S – Saturday...we...kinda...well I m – mean...Charles and I...after that date...we...”

Marshall grinned and held up a hand. “I think I can take an accurate guess. No need for details.” He watched her visibly deflate in relief. “So? You guys boinked. What happened after?”

Her face turned strawberry red and she sputtered syllables for a second. “D – did you have to put it that way?!” She nearly shouted, utterly mortified. She ignored his quick snicker and cleared her throat. Her face softened as she remembered the tears and that hug. “Charles...he...well, he broke down. I told him he was a good person, but I don't think he thinks that of himself.” He brow furrowed upward. “But he is! His ex-wife really messed him up and I know he's scared to trust again. He's shown me that. He's told me at least twice that I remember in that day alone how much my time with him meant. How much being there with him meant. But I...” Teeth bit her lip, head falling a little. “Monday and Tuesday, I pushed him aside just because dad kept wanting to be near me. I didn't mean to. My dad is really...aggressive in wanting to spend time with me and he's really overprotective. I think Monday he didn't mean to do it, but after he saw how many times Charles came into my office, he had to know something was up. I think he kept doing it even today to keep Charles away from me.”

She slowly pulled away from Marshall's arms, unable to take being in them anymore. It wasn't Charles and to have another man hold her felt wrong. She didn't know why and she couldn't explain it, but she couldn't stay there anymore. Arms went around her legs, chin on her knees. She stared across the living room for a moment, mouth tight as she tried to think.

“I don't know what I feel. I said that I like Charles to my dad, but it still doesn't seem to properly explain myself. I...I just don't know. What is this between us? Is it just 'like'? L – love seems to be a tad too much. I've never been in love before, so I have nothing to go by.” She sighed feeling hopeless all over again. “I don't want to spout empty words to him. That's wrong. He's already been betrayed. I don't want to to do that to him, but what do I say? I don't want to lose him, but that's as broad as telling him that he's special to me.” She leveled Marshall with all of the frustrated questions in her eyes. “How did you know Marshall? How did you know you were in love with Monica?” His head jerked back a little, mouth bobbing open and closed a few times. Her eyes flew open at how thoughtless she just was. Hands waved in between them as if to dispel her words. “Oh my god! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to bring her up! I know she's a touchy subject!”

His face relaxed. “It's fine Sam. We've been texting the last few days about random stuff. It's been nice to keep in touch.” He looked away, but it was easy to see how much he still missed her. The sigh he gave spoke volumes. “Do I love Monica? I'd be a fool to say no. She's a great person and she puts up with a lot of my crap. We never really discussed that in depth, but I think I should take a page from you and really think about everything between us. I really care for her and I can easily say that.” He sighed and mentally shook himself from his own problems for the one in the room. “This is just my opinion, but if you love someone, it should be easy to say that, right? I can easily say that I care for Monica, but do I really love her? I won't rule it out, but it doesn't roll off my tongue as quickly. Love is funny that way. Emotions can be tricky, but you're doing the right thing by taking time in this.”

She sighed, crossing her legs and propping up her head with her arms on her knees. “Guess I've got my work cut out for me...”

“Hmm, how about this? You have people in your life that you love right? That you already know and you can easily tell them 'I love you'...”

She looked to him with a raised brow. “Yea... Doesn't everyone?”

Marshall's lips tilted a little sadly. “Does Charles?”

She quickly retracted her thought. “I doubt it. Not with how he treats himself.”

“So...you do, right? Do you love Bowser?”

“Well...of course...”

“How about your mom?”

She looked at him like he was crazy, but humored him. “Absolutely.”

“Your dad?”

“Yea.”

“Possible siblings?”

She smiled as she thought of Jay. “Yes.”

“Charles?”

“Ye -” Her mouth clamped shut, eyes widening as her brain registered his name. “Um...I mean...”

He wagged a finger in her face. “Ah, ah Sam. You can't think. Emotions aren't something you figure out in your head. When you stopped stressing about it an went with your gut, you almost had the answer ready to say.” He smiled and copied her pose, leaning forward a little. “Maybe I'm the wrong person to be asking these questions to. Maybe you should just call Charles right now and have that chat without thinking. Or better yet, go and see him. I bet something is budding deep down. I mean...I don't think you're the type to have sex with just anyone, are you?”

Link came to mind, but when she thought to that question on whether or not she wanted to kiss him that day and said no to that empty room, she also couldn't say that she felt for Link the same way like she did for Charles. She blushed and shook her head.

“I'm not too sure I can be much more help than listening to your problems. Sorry that I don't have better advice to give you. In the end, you're the only one who can figure out what you feel. I hope you can figure it out and have a positive ending.” His lips tilted. “Not everyone gets a happy ending, but it's nice to know those that do.”

“ _Because I know marriage doesn't equal a happy ending.”_

She had no idea just what he meant that night, but had she bothered to ask even one question, she might have known back then how delicate his heart was. She felt bad all over for all the signs she bet she could find if she only looked hard enough. Yet again, she thoughtlessly ignored everything from him until it was too late and mistakes were made.

“You're right Marshall. I intended on seeing if Charles could meet with me tonight for a long talk, but I was thinking a little later in the evening. Maybe I'll try to not think about it so much like you said and just go over there as soon as I know he might be back from work. Soon as I know what time is...”

He snorted and stood with her, slowly following behind as she went for the bag on the kitchen counter. “I know right. All of the fancy appliances they give us and there's not one clock on any of them. It's almost weird. Everything has a clock in it nowadays.”

It wasn't even two in the afternoon yet. She stared at the 'one new message' from Charles and fought with opening it. She really wanted to know what it said, but was too scared to read it. She found it had been sent almost half an hour ago and teeth bit her lip.

“Going to check it out or leave it be?”

Her head jerked to his voice, finding his chin nearly resting on her shoulder as he looked over it. He looked curious, mind whirling at it. He leaned back and rested his arms on the tall eating area around a bar stool. She stared at the message until the phone went dead and used that to break her of the spell. She put it back in her bag, teeth biting her lip. “I...want to...but I'm kind of scared. Does that even make sense? I know that because I left so early he's probably worried about me, even though he can probably figure out what it's about.” Her hands clasped together in agitation, lips tight. “I guess...from all that I've been trying to do the this afternoon, it'd just feel like a slap in the face if he didn't want me to try...”

“Nonsense Sam. How could Charles not appreciate all that you're trying to do right now?” Marshall suddenly straightened and put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey. If it's too early for you to see him, why don't we go get my mail and maybe take a walk? You won't find answers in this prison and some fresh air might do you some good.”

Her stomach took that time to make its horribly timed needs known.

She went beet red, shoulders hunched to her ears. “Ah...ha ha...I forgot that...I haven't eaten lunch yet...”

“Really? Me either. How about we head to Dee's for snacks.”

She smiled at his gung-ho look, knowing he really liked Dee's food as much as she did. Her lips tilted a little, though she warred with herself on mentioning it because she was supposed to have gone with Charles and still wanted to. But her stomach needed food now and while the distance wouldn't help, the portion size would.

“Actually...I know of a little place that is really good on food size, cost, and taste.” She grinned, shouldering the bag. “It's a bit of a bus ride, but totally worth it.”

“Sounds delicious already. Let me get my stuff and we'll head out!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go Samara go!  
> Shame on you Samuel; like father like daughter I guess.  
> Go Marshall; ever the friend indeed.


	27. repairing the damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God how he wanted to make this all go away. He wanted to erase the week and remain stuck in the loop of that fateful, glorious, maddening day. To when it was just them enjoying each other's company however they saw fit. It was driving him mad yet there was nothing he could do. She had so many people around her and he would have to share her with them all, like it or not. He found he didn't want to part with her to anyone and that's what he'd end up doing every moment of the day.

(To play while reading https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_gqM2bZ3v50)

_Miss_ _Young,_ _I_ _apologize_ _if_ _you_ _went_ _home_ _due_ _to_ _the_ _stress_ _from_ _today._ _I_ _hope_ _you_ _are_ _well._

There was no response and he sent that over six hours ago. He was worried she was mad at him, but last time he texted her and received no response, she was merely asleep. Last time he had gotten his hopes up that she would be near her phone and send a rapid response, just like now.

'But it's just past seven. She wouldn't be in bed now, would she?'

He wasn't too sure just what he was expecting in a return text. He shouldn't ask for reassurance that she was fine; he saw for himself just how okay she wasn't in his office. Somehow, he wanted to salvage something out of this for the final two weeks before he packed up and left. It was a selfish need to stay in her good graces, even as he was tearing her apart with his own issues.

He sighed and took a swig from the low ball glass, grimacing at the burn to his throat. He noticed there was only a small swig left and finished off, heading in from the patio to put it in the sink. The clunk sounded louder than it was, but the silence was already oppressive. He leaned against the counter top with another sigh, blankly staring out the night sky with listless eyes.

"Maybe I was too hard on her... It wouldn't be the first time I've made an ass out of myself." He mumbled, hand over his face. Fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. "She's too naive to know that what she does is hurtful after all."

That didn't make the last few days of disappointments any better. That one day buried him in her and flooded his heart with more emotions than he'd known for years. That he'd allowed himself to know. He couldn't escape from the onslaught, unable to make the chains as strong as they had been...couldn't get his grip just right to hold on as he always had. His hands didn't want to do the work, and the chains were pulling apart. He hadn't done a good enough job on them because he didn't want to make them again in the first place.

It felt so nice to feel again. To be again. To care about someone other than himself. To put some faith and hope and dreams in another person. To think that maybe he could shed this dried, scratchy skin that was so abrasive to his younger, innocent self and everyone around him. That laughter he shared with her in his bed when they tickled each other was a pleasure that made him smile even now when he relived it for the millionth time. It was a memory he hated leaving and coming back to the reality he screwed himself over on.

Why did he think this would be any different? His luck with women had been horrible for almost a decade. Even when he attempted to do anything after burying his heart and finding any solace in female company, he went for two extremes: a woman who wanted bondage to offset her strong personae and a stoic woman who could have done just as good a job in her own company with a toy than with him.

A hand ran through his hair, feeling pathetic. Was he making a huge mistake again? It wouldn't be the first time. It probably wouldn't be the last either. "Damn it..." He grumbled, glowering across the open space. "That drink wasn't perhaps the best way to soothe the evening."

It had been a long day. Work was impossible and he barely managed to get done on time. He was more upset at himself when he headed into her office with a document only to find her gone and his worry skyrocketed. Thankfully, Lucy had seen what was going on and filled him in on Samara's initial bursting into Samuel's office, only to come back out of it a short time later weeping. Then Samuel was helping her out of the building almost immediately after that and she didn't look in any better spirits then either.

He knew it was because of him. He felt like a heel and sent her that horribly pathetic text as the only thing he could do to hold onto his resolve and yet cave at the same time. It was stupid and really if he just went and talked to her, they could both set things straight. It wasn't the first time he'd messed things up by saying something wrong or not at all. When she found out he was divorced, he panicked. His emotions for her sent him into a tailspin that he almost screwed up everything. How was this any different than that? Except, instead of caving, he was going to stay true to one decision and not take it back. Somehow, after three days of being a coward, he had decided she wasn't worth it. After the last few weeks of being close with her.

God how he wanted to make this all go away. He wanted to erase the week and remain stuck in the loop of that fateful, glorious, maddening day. To when it was just them enjoying each other's company however they saw fit. It was driving him mad yet there was nothing he could do. She had so many people around her and he would have to share her with them all, like it or not. He found he didn't want to part with her to anyone and that's what he'd end up doing every moment of the day. Jealousy didn't want to let her go that Sunday and he surmised if she hadn't been called, he wouldn't have let her leave his sight even after he dropped her off. He would have found excuses to stay, to take up her apartment instead of his.

How could he be so taken with one single woman so quickly? He had known a only handful in his time, but she had by far turned him upside down faster than all of them put together. The answer was easy; she had what he lacked. She had the family, the inner beauty, and innocence. She was everything he wanted and yet he was scared of telling her that. He was too worried about what the future brought and didn't want to see it. He didn't know if he'd survive her betraying him in such a huge event as Gwen when he couldn't even survive a few days without being near her and even platonically touching her.

His jaw grit, a quick exhale pressing through his teeth. 'Outside. Cold air. I should sober up a bit more.' In attempt to numb himself of the afternoon's guilt, the liquor had the exact opposite effect.

For better or worse, this was the decision he had made. Letting the world have her had his hands in fists, his eyes burning. He wanted her all to himself, but he couldn't. That wasn't fair to her friends and family. Whereas he had only himself to count on and his mother across the ocean. His heart had originally put him here in the first place, just as it was now deciding to cast its protective shell away and reach out with base need.

He plopped on one of the chairs, head falling back onto the cushion with a sigh. "What am I doing?" He breathed. He leaned forward, hands scrubbing his face harshly, not wanting to give in to tears.

Maybe he should text her again. Perhaps she just needed space from things to gather herself. Maybe she was a bit better after giving it time. Unlike him. The longer he sat in his glass and metal tower that made up his apartment, the more he wanted to reach out for her. 'Maybe...maybe just a small text. But, what do I say?'

How did he not make it sound like a whiny child who had lost its favorite toy? She wanted to be his friend first and foremost before her physical needs started redirecting the road they were on. If he mentioned that, perhaps it would be okay? Truth be told, still being her friend was as desirable as something more. He couldn't count the amount of friends he had in this country on both hands. He didn't know if his co-workers considered him as such; work was work and he wasn't there to make friends after all. If he had to pick anyone, Lucy and Umed would probably be it.

After maybe five or ten minutes of agonizing over just what to say, his body finally stopped itching to move and finally propelled him from his seat. He hunted for his phone and found it on the table in the living room. He picked it up and turned it on, finding three mixed texts and a phone call from Samara.

His heart jumped in his chest, a shot of adrenaline hitting him. The breath hitched in his throat, the grip on the phone tightening just a little.

_Charles,_ _I_ _hope_ _you're_ _home_ _because_ _I'd_ _like_ _to_ _talk_ _to_ _you._

Maybe ten minutes later, there was another one.

_Charles,_ _please_ _pick_ _up_ _the_ _phone._

Another ten minutes passed.

_Charles,_ _I'm_ _outside_ _your_ _complex._ _How_ _do_ _I_ _get_ _inside?_

He panicked a little, looking to the entryway as if she were standing right there. He mentally scolded himself for being an idiot and found the call time was only a few minutes after her last text, but that was already five minutes ago. He stuffed the phone in his pocket and hurried to the door, mind whirling in attempt to make intelligent, understood words...heart happy that she was here even if that annoying thread told himself she shouldn't be. He unlocked the door and yanked it open, yelping in unison with her scream to find her at his door, finger out to ring the bell.

A hand went to her chest as she tried to get her breathing back. She huffed, adrenaline making her hands shake as wide eyes met wide eyes. They were equal in their reactions, but his eyes seemed a little more shocked than hers. Like he couldn't believe she was here. Was...that a thread of panic she saw?

'Be strong. Remember your resolve. Think of that coaching you did on the bus here. You can do this. Don't leave until you get him to open up to you. You may not get another chance.'

"Charles, I'd like to talk to you. May I come inside?"

His mouth opened and clamped shut. He instinctively wanted to say 'yes', but 'no' planned on making that a hodge podge syllable. His hand gripped the doorknob in his indecision, the weight on his chest making breathing a chore. His arm shook at the sheer grip he was exuding on the poor metal, heart beating fast in his chest.

God...she looked beautiful, though she looked like she always did. His eyes took her in like a dying man receiving a meal and and he harshly swallowed. His mind wiped itself blank, all of last night and this morning disappearing for a grateful, mere moment. His face twitched to show emotion despite his best attempts to keep it even.

She didn't miss any of it. The jumping of his eyes to and from hers and her plain attire. The slight jerk of his torso as it seemed to want to move forward. The minute shaking in his arm. The small furrow of his brow.

Her heart went out to him, and yet it seemed to confirm a few things she pondered earlier in the afternoon. She had a lot of questions and mentioned a few things to her father and Marshall, but seeing him like this only made them true. She took a small step forward, hand putting hair behind an ear self-consciously. "Charles...can we talk? Inside?"

Her voice snapped him from his head and he mentally shook himself to attention. "M...Miss Young... I'm sorry...you...you shouldn't be here." His brow furrowed. "How did you get here anyway?"

"I took the bus. You know I don't own a car."

He sighed. "At this hour? In this darkness? You shouldn't have done that! There are so many people you know whom could have given you a ride."

'Wait, what am I saying?!'

His head shook, more at himself than her. "No...that's not the point. You...you shouldn't have come Miss Young. There was no need."

He was contradicting himself and he was so painfully obvious. The need and fear pouring out of his eyes versus the words from his mouth. Was he saying that to make himself believe it, or her? She knew right then and there that she would need to push him just a little to get him to open up and let her make him see. He would hesitate and do as he had done before, flee from her to protect his bruised heart, until she could get past his defenses.

Her arms slowly went out and latched onto his torso before she could let him think.

He jumped, taking a step back at the petite limbs around him. His heart jumped into his throat, then proceeded to run around his rib cage. Inhaling was a chore and he shook more than he wanted to. He dumbly blinked, eyes locked on a random spot outside his door. He was frozen like that, although inside he was fighting so many things at once. It took almost a moment of her warmth seeping into him, the slight weight of her head on his chest, and the poke of the side of her glasses into his chest before his arms remembered they might want to hug her back.

Holding back on that was hard.

It was nice to be in his arms, even if he wasn't making a move to reciprocate. The anxiety and uncertainty that enveloped her the entire ride over melted away. Words weren't necessary, although she didn't know just what to say from here in this second. He was strong and the previous days of being so near floated through her head. She nuzzled his chest just a little at the notion.

It helped snap him to himself.

In a quick motion, his hands came up and grasped her upper arms, pulling her away gently. He stared at her, mouth gaping open a little, unable to bring himself to make her leave nor invite her in.

"I missed you too, Charles." She murmured, sweet smile forming. His brow went up in confusion, but he still remained silent. She looked to his chest, a finger tapping over where the organ rested. "I can feel how fast your heart is beating. Could that mean...you're actually happy to see me too?"

He looked into her optimistic eyes for a second before shunting his gaze down. He released her and took a step away. "Miss Young...you shouldn't have come..."

"Yes I did. I needed to." Her hands reached out and took one of his. She brought it to her face and placed his palm on her cheek. "I can't let you leave without explaining a bunch of things."

He should've known something like that would've been made public. It explained her exit and Lucy's words. He sighed and turned away a little, although he didn't take his hand away. The warmth from her cheeks bled into his skin and up his arm. "There's...there's nothing to explain Miss Young. I will take you home if you give me a moment to get my keys." She let go of his hand when he took a step away.

"No."

He turned back at the very stern tone, brows in his hairline. He found she followed him inside, but not past the threshold that she could close the door. He froze where he was, feeling like if he kept walking in, she would keep going and the last frayed edges of this whole debacle would snap and blow away in the theoretical wind.

"I'm not leaving until I've talked to you Charles. I did as you asked and I have your answer."

His head tilted in confusion. "I'm not sure just what you mean Miss Young."

Her face melted from its hard edges as she took his hand again and kissed his knuckles. "You asked me earlier what I wanted from you. What you meant to me. I was too emotional earlier to be able to give you a proper answer and I'm sorry for making you wait. I'm ready now."

He put a hand on her shoulder, overly wary on the edge of the knife he had been on all evening. His ears wanted to hear more from those small lips of hers, but his heart was quivering in indecision. "Let me stop you there Miss Young."

"No, I won't stop. I'm sorry I left work early and didn't get anything done, but this was more important. You're more important."

"Please, Miss Young -"

"I realized this wasn't something to get into at the office and I'm sorry for interrupting you at work about this. That was wrong, but I hate when things are left to fester."

"Miss Young, I -"

"What do I want from you? Just how are you special to me? I took the time like you said to those questions and I have your answer."

"Stop!" He nearly pleaded. His chest heaved a little despite not having physically exerted himself. He was practically shaking, eyes threatening to spill over. "Please...don't say anything more..." In vain attempt to hold onto the last shred of sanity, he turned from her, a hand covering his face with unsteady breaths. He felt lightheaded and his brain shut down.

She didn't hesitate. Her arms gingerly went around his back, her cheek on his shirt, but he didn't push her away and she was glad. She moved with his choppy breathing, feeling his heart thunder in his chest and how bad he was trembling. "I once said that you're special to me Charles and I meant it wholeheartedly. I wasn't lying...I'd never lie to you and you know this. But it's more than that. I like you Charles. A lot. I don't know if I can say that 'I love you' without feeling like it might be a tad forced and I'm sorry if that's what you'd prefer to hear, but I do want to be with you. As much as possible around our daily lives. If you'd let me. I don't want you quit. I want you to be my boss, my friend, my lover, and my boyfriend. Please..."

The breath he'd been holding throughout her words left in a hurry, a gasp replacing it. The hand over his face dropped to his side as it was useless to keep the waterworks at bay. His head tilted back as they poured down his cheeks, feeling like he was falling with nothing to hold onto.

"Last time I held you like this, I was there when your tears stopped. I'm not going anywhere this time. Or the next time. Or the time after that. I'll be there as much as I can, for whenever you need me. I don't want you to feel like this. If I can help you change that, then I'll do anything I can to help you. If you'll let me."

His teeth grit, chin trembling. The warmth, honesty, and promise in her speech had him reeling. He wanted to fall to his knees and beg for mercy. Mercy for her to stop, to hold him and keep whispering such things until the night was gone and morning was here. Nails bit into his palms, but he was rooted to the spot and was unable to move. He was too worried that if he turned around, he would bawl like a baby in her arms or worse...deny everything and shut her out for absolutely no reason. That he would be unable to take that leap of faith into the abyss with her when her hand was already out for him to take on the way down.

She let go when he still said nothing and slowly faced him. Her brows furrowed up, hands cupping wet cheeks. She tugged on his chin a little, not getting him to move to her, but at least peeling his eyes from the ceiling to meet hers. Hers teared as well, teeth biting a lip for a second. "Ch - Charles..." Her chin wobbled and she had to take a deep breath for stability. "I'm here. With you. I won't let you go again. I don't want to. Can you see that? Will you believe me?" She whispered.

His arms finally responded to whatever buried commands his head was trying to give them. He nearly crushed her to him, the small thread of logic telling himself not to use too much strength lest he hurt her. He buried his face in her shoulder as best he could, feeling her arms go around his neck. He felt everything that had frozen over melt and wash away. The chains that had been pulled and warped all day shattered into a million pieces and sprinkled to the ground like glitter falling.

"There, there..." She quietly soothed, hand lightly going through his hair. "I'm here. It's okay. I won't let you go. Just hold me as long as you want. I'll be here with you."

He tried to breathe, but it was hard. He practically gasped for air, brain repeating to him to calm down and think. She should get some kind of a response, but he honestly didn't know what to say. It was stupid because all he had to do was affirm everything she just told him. He had wanted to the second she stepped into his office today and had almost every moment since then.

His lips found hers, hastily crashing against her and moving faster than she could keep up. His hand delved into her hair to keep her there, but even if she needed air, he couldn't let her go. He wanted to climb into her skin and wrap it around him to hold him as close as possible. He wanted to take her into every cell he possessed and imprint her DNA onto his. His hands flexed, the arm around her back blindly moving as if to grasp something, anything. Even with her in his arms, it wasn't enough. He needed her so badly and didn't know how to fill that gaping void.

He let her go to breathe, as he also needed air, and rested his mouth over her hair. He wanted to speak, but his composure was still so broken that he didn't know if he could say anything properly. He tried to take deep breaths to calm himself, tried to focus on her arms around him that lightly gripped his top.

"S...Samara..." He breathed, hardly able to get that out. She didn't say anything and he assumed she was quiet to give him time to speak. He chalked that up to another wonderful aspect of her. "I...I don't know...what to say really..." He gave a teary snort at his own behavior. "I...I apologize first off."

"You don't have to Charles." She murmured, smelling his cologne. She quietly inhaled it, feeling the soft stability it provided her. It mingled with the warmth he shared and it was a nice mix. "I understand."

"Do you?" He almost retorted, mentally kicking himself for possibly ruining things and took a deep breath for weak composure. He pulled away and looked to her, watching her as she slowly wiped his face dry. His eyes hurt and he wanted nothing more than to rest them for a while, but he didn't want to stop looking at her. "Do you?" He softly insisted, desperately searching her eyes as if for answers.

She smiled and nodded. "Yes. I know I probably didn't give you the best impression since Monday morning. I was blind. I'm sorry that it took for me to make so many mistakes to see that. I truly didn't mean to put you second after such an amazing weekend with you. I didn't understand how to balance things. My family has always been the only thing in my life for so long. But then you came along, Charles. You became just as important as they are, if not more so. They can't be with me all the time and I don't want them to. Not like I do with you."

She took in everything for a second, seeing how avidly he was listening and wanting to cuddle him like a baby. "I don't know much about your problems with Gweneth, but I know enough to know that you're scared to try. I was rejected and didn't want to try again too, and although our situations aren't the same, the root of the issue is. It's okay to be scared. Even though you were, you reached out to me that day. I could see how happy you were. You can be that way again. I'll help you. Just tell me what to do."

"Just...keep holding me..." He got out, more tears falling. "And please...let me kiss you. Let me touch you. I need to feel you, but...but not like that. I...I need to know that you're here. Even though I can see you and hear you, it's not the same."

She surrendered her lips to his in a second. He wet her cheeks, mingling with her own tears. His hands captured her jaw, feeling her hair tickle his fingers. He was much more gentle and slow the second time around, as if she were glass or dust that would blow away if he was too abrasive. Her hands attempted to cover his, but they were just too small. He pulled away and entwined their fingers, eyes looking at them.

He stared at them in strange need, seeing her fingers mixed with his. Seeing them together somehow started cementing the fact that she was here. Her skin was warm in his, her hands soft. After moments of silence, he brought them to his mouth and rested his lips there. His head fell forward a little, finding hers and giving it a second to literally lean on her. The theoretical aspect wasn't lost on him.

The dichotomy of her physical delicacy and emotional strength had him amazed. She had barely made it to this life and yet she was so much stronger than he was in this moment. Despite her tears, she had said words he was to afraid to utter. His facade was more glass than hers and while he could handle the public whereas she couldn't, when it came down to it, she was more genuine in her interactions with others. She was so much the better person and she wanted to be with him. He honestly didn't deserve her, even though she thought he did.

“I'm sorry.” He breathed, blue peeking open to find her watching him.

“So am I.” She quietly returned. Her lips tilted as she embraced him again once he let go of her hands. He returned it, his hold looser and more tender.

His chin rested on top of her head, cheek soon taking its turn. Her presence wrapped around him and he felt it on a level he couldn't describe. The night was there and everything was dark. The world had gone to sleep outside and it looked like everything only existed in the room they were in, just like it had that Saturday. His lips tilted a little, hoping they could return to the day he never wanted to leave.

It was just sad that he put them through hell in order to get to it again.

She was fine with the quiet, but one thing eventually came to mind and she finally pulled away enough to look at him again. “Do you mind if I get my bag? I left it by the front door. I don't want anyone taking it.”

The odd statement jogged him a little from it all and his brow went up. “Bag?” He watched her in curiosity as she turned for the front door and disappeared for two seconds, returning with her usual large shoulder bag. “Samara? I don't understand...”

A hand lightly grasped the strap at her shoulder as she looked to him with a smile. “I made sure to pack some toiletries and a spare set of clothes for tomorrow. That way I don't need to wear this outfit again if I don't have to. If you're okay with it, I can leave my dirty clothes here and find a way to get it later.”

He dumbly blinked, looking from her to the bag and back. “You...packed?” The light bulb in his brain finally went on and he smiled a little. “Did you intend on such things before you came over?”

She giggled and nodded. “In the hopes that I could get my foot in the door, I knew if I could get you to listen to me, I wouldn't want to leave your side tonight.” Her arms rose, hands lightly clutching at the front of his top. “I still don't...if that's okay.”

His arms encircled her, trapping her at his chest. He leaned down and nuzzled her nose with his a few times with a small smile. “You can't honestly believe that I'll let you part with me now after such words Bunty.” He leaned forward with a soft smile, eyes still hesitant and raw.

She gave a silly grin, quickly kissing him and returning the nose rub against his chin. “I set Bowser up at Mrs. Whipple's again, so I don't need to worry about him. I ate a couple of hours ago, but if you didn't we can go out and get something if you're hungry.”

"I don't feel well enough to have an appetite, but there is something I'd prefer to do more." He released her, fingers going for hers and pulling her to the love seat in his living room. He sat down and tugged her to his lap, arms going around her when she sat on him. "That's better." He murmured, nose in her hair. He inhaled her shampoo, heart fluttering. "And yet...it's still not enough. I don't think I'll be able to let you go for a while. If that's okay with you."

She suddenly shifted and straddled his waist, arms going around him and legs when he sat forward enough for her to do so. She stared at his shock, fingers lightly brushing down a cheek. "Maybe a full body hug can help." She kidded, giggling when his lips tilted. She took in his eyes, finding the vulnerability, uncertainty, hope, and affection. He almost looked like a child and she felt strong protective urges surge through her arms, grip increasing a little. Her brows furrowed up, lips finding his forehead as she went with her gut. "My precious Charles..." She breathed against his skin.

His jaw clenched, heart jumping. Teeth bit his lip, eyes watering again. He stared at her, feeling so overwhelmed and he didn't know if he could survive the ocean she had plunged him into. His arms increased their hold, only slightly worried he would make her uncomfortable and yet she said nothing. He was almost lightheaded at everything, unable to swim to the surface she was literally covering him with. He quickly exhaled when he wished to say invisible words instead. She stole his ability to speak, saying the things he wanted to create and giving them to him instead. He wanted to wax poetic this instant, but nothing was forming in his head. He couldn't talk, only feel.

A hand floated up and took the glasses off her face. He set them on the armrest carefully to keep them safe and covered her face with his hands. He stared into doe-like eyes full of things meant for him. It made him smile more, even though he still couldn't believe it. She was here, she was his, she was holding him with no intent on letting go anytime soon. She didn't need to go home tonight, just like she didn't that day. She had taken care of her life in order to tend to his. She had fixed it so no one would bother them.

He didn't think that he would appreciate her making time for him as much as he did right now. He knew it was necessary because his mother once said that people made time for those important to them and it had always stuck with him. After fleeing his homeland, it became a cherished thing that he didn't see. He gave up on it, knowing that only he would do such a thing for himself and didn't hope for it from others.

He had worked with her for a long time, but never thought much of her. She hid herself so well, like the greatest puzzle he never bothered to examine until that lunch and their conversation during it. Had there been no honesty from her, he would have never given her an inch. Perhaps that was the main turning point.

He felt bad all over again and gently kissed her as if in apology. "I'm so glad I met you Bunty." He nearly whispered. She smiled, eyes shining. "What would I do without you? Where would I be now? Would I even be alive inside?"

Her mouth opened at that, almost looking at him in horror. She plunged forward, arms going around his neck tightly, face dropping into the space between his neck. "Don't say that!" She begged, shaking. "You're a strong person Charles Jones! Please don't put yourself down again. You've made it this far, haven't you?"

"I'd say barely." He murmured, resting his temple against her hair. "Can you honestly recall a time when I was this tender and open and honest with you concerning my feelings?"

"N...no..." She begrudged.

His lips tilted at the tone. “And yet, because of you, I am here.” He sat back with a small sigh, staring at her as if seeing her for the first time again. He almost contemplated her features, squinting a little. “You who have given yourself to me in so many ways. Do you even know how much that means to me?” Teeth bit his lip for a second, eyes falling. “Can you truly comprehend the fact that I never figured on anything with you that day? That I only thought it would be like a one-night stand and to merely speak with you in the office after that?” He put a finger to her lips when she made to speak. He half-smiled as if in irony. “And yet...you proved me wrong yet again. You have shattered every expectation I didn't even know existed, along with the ones I was forced to accept. I'm so sorry for never thinking you capable of anything. You are the most beautiful human being I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. I hope you will keep uprooting my shattered beliefs and shining down on me with your glory.”

She kissed him through her tears, heart full to the bursting point. “You...” She sniffed. “Perfect man you.” She rested her forehead against his, wanting to say so much more than that and yet unable to figure out the right sequence to everything. “I'll stay with you as long as you let me. Through the few people I've ever wanted to take a chance on, you were the only one to follow through. I never thought that I'd ever come to care for someone so much. I was always shy and awkward, but you...you don't care about any of that. You don't care how dorky or much I geek out about things that I think people don't want to hear. Everything I feared to show you was just stupid. You let me be me and that means so much to me.”

“I wouldn't change you for the world Samara. You're already flawless in your own way. You're the perfect fit for me. I think we compliment each other very well. My strengths are your faults and yet I can help you overcome them. You are the same with me. We can only help hoist each other up.”

She nodded, face tilting a little as she brushed the hair from his eyes a little. She kept running her fingers through his locks, egged on when his head tilted to her embrace. “I hope me being with you can help you be more positive and open in life. If you want, I can create some self-love exercises that we can start.”

He started laughing through tears and it felt good. It rolled out of him like a group of rocks on a steep hill once the barrier had been removed. It was a salve he desperately needed to a joke that she probably didn't even mean to be as funny as it was. It was merely a catalyst to help alter his mood to where he always wished it to be. Where it would forever be with her; content and alive.

“Oh Bunty...whatever shall I do with you?” He managed when he collected himself.

She calmed the prompted laughter at his changed mood, feeling...whole with him. Her eyes danced between his as his did to hers, seeing the clouds roll away a little and the light shine from behind the dark blue. She felt a little hesitant at the sheer magnitude he propelled her way,but knew that it was just new and unfamiliar. There was plenty of time to get accustomed to all of the joy he had never felt safe to show. She hoped she could help him and yet knew she would. All she had to do was be near him and take his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone still alive out there? ::passes the tissues::  
> I added ambiance music for this chapter, just in case you wanted to die some more.


	28. I love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She still didn't know how someone like him had picked her. As she had told him so many times she called him perfect, as he did to her. He could take his pick of any woman out there, and yet he wanted her, but she didn't see it. She was short, clumsy, awkward, not built that well, and didn't have any visions of grandeur like it was assumed for her. But, to him, she was beautiful, intelligent, and funny. She wasn't a dork, her gaming habit was perfectly acceptable, and she was sincere.

It was at least nine o'clock by the time they laid in bed for sleep. He felt no urge to move from that spot on the couch and she didn't either. But the fun was yet again over as they both had work the next day and needed to get to sleep. After fixing all of the major problems blocking their way, it would do no good to stride into work with him tomorrow and face her dad all grumpy then cause a needless confrontation.

She cursed the fact that it wasn't the weekend. She wanted to stay up later and have him do things to her, with her, but she was kind of tired. As much as she needed sleep though, she didn't want to. The only solace that honestly wasn't help her was laying on his chest, hand feeling the slow thrum of his heartbeat. His arm was loosely around her hip an it burned a little around the night shirt that she again borrowed. Her ear paid attention to the flood of breath in his lungs, the slow and steady exhale. He wisely put on a full set of pajamas, lending her an extra top, but the polyester and silk combination wasn't helping much.

She mentally cursed this sudden surge of libido, wondering if she was going to ever be normal again. She licked her lips as she felt the solid mass under her cheek, heart not slowing down as it should for the night. Was that such a crime though? There was nothing wrong in it and it was highly enjoyable. He was kind and yet powerful at the same time and thinking about last week in the same bed she was in now had her heart jumping around.

She still didn't know how someone like him had picked her. As she had told him so many times she called him perfect, as he did to her. He could take his pick of any woman out there, and yet he wanted her, but she didn't see it. She was short, clumsy, awkward, not built that well, and didn't have any visions of grandeur like it was assumed for her. But, to him, she was beautiful, intelligent, and funny. She wasn't a dork, her gaming habit was perfectly acceptable, and she was sincere.

Her eyes teared at how he held her, how tenderly he kissed her most of the night. How softly he ran his fingers through her hair and spoke of so many praises. How he didn't want to let her go and barely let her off to use the bathroom a few times. Her lips twitched at how she had to almost pry his arms off her, laughing when he turned playful every time.

Her chest felt...strange, like it was too full. Like it was bigger than she could handle. She shifted at a snail's pace until she was resting on her elbows, mindful of the hand trying to remain attached to her skin even asleep. She blinked back the liquid spilling onto her lashes, brow furrowing up. “You...perfect man you.” She whispered, hand coming to his sleeve and gently putting it behind her on the bed. She shifted onto her knees, taking in the wild hair on the pillow and how it brushed over his forehead. His mouth was only barely open, the breath slightly wheezing from his lips.

She needed to find better words to describe him because 'perfect' was getting too overly used and it was boring. She needed to get her phone and pull up a thesaurus to find other things to say about him. Right now, her mind was blank with her eyes feasting on the gorgeous canvas below. Her lips tilted, hand itching to touch him, to let her skin know he wanted to be hers just as badly as she wanted to be his. The notion was suffocating and she finally acquiesced to it, though he didn't stir with as gingerly as she connected their bodies.

“Faultless...maybe excellent? No, that's not right... I already used gorgeous a bunch of times. Brilliant? That doesn't sound right either.” She breathed, head tilting.

Her eyes roamed his covered torso, forced to stop at the blanket nearly bunched at his waist. Teeth bit her lip as she remained locked on the dichotomy of pajamas and covers, knowing what lay underneath. Her heart flipped, diving from its connective hold near her lungs all the way down to her inner thighs before returning. It was enough of a shot that clouded her brain, making her imagine things that she wanted to do to him in these moments. Damn work and the next day; he was here right now and the need was encompassing.

Her lips pressed together as she shifted the blankets up to tent them and allow herself to move onto his lap. She hovered on her hands and knees, staring down at his sleeping face and felt a stab of guilt. He was asleep and she shouldn't do this when he couldn't enjoy it. Maybe...just wake him up and if he said 'no' she would respect that and try to get some sleep...somehow.

“Charles.” She whispered, lap pressing onto his slowly. Her muscles jumped just a bit and she gripped the sheets a little. She leaned over her arms, eyes locked on his, mentally wishing he'd wake and tell her this was okay. She wanted him to touch her badly. Not just her body demanded it, but also her heart needed filling as well. “Charles...”

He stirred with a sleepy groan, feeling cold on his cheek and tried to shift, but couldn't. There was a puff of something that came in slightly rapid intervals. His brain slowly engaged to the warmth covering part of his body. “Ung...S...Smra...? Wha...”

Her mouth covered his slowly, tongue going over his lower lip. His mouth opened more on reflex, his tongue finding hers. His fingers moved, finding chilled flesh and rested his hands there to warm up the spot he found. The feel of her chest pressed against his just enough to wake up the nerves in curiosity.

“Charles...” She breathed, back bending enough to push her down. She exhaled a shuddery breath, hearing him copy her.

“B – Bunty... Not...not that I'm complaining...ung...but...what?”

“I can't hold back any longer.” She rasped, hips going against his again. Her hands fumbled, catching his upper arms and clutching at the fabric. “I can't just...sleep against you...right now... I need you. Badly.”

“Samara...” He breathed, head pushing into the pillow as she moved against him again. “When...unf...” He groaned a little, the depth of woken emotion that she built for his heart almost made her slow, few movements too much. His hands twitched, finally latching out on her thighs, fingers trying not to dig to harshly into her skin.

“W...would you mind...if I put it in?” She nearly begged, teeth nearly drawing blood. “Please?”

“Wait.” He rasped, quickly sitting up. He ended up shifting entirely in order to get far enough into the drawer for the stash of squares he kept. He looked to her, finding her sitting on her legs and shifting, trembling with lust. His eyes raked in the shirt covering all the main places he wanted to be all at once and yet...he laid on his back as he had before. He looked to her with hooded eyes. “Do you wish to continue where you left off Bunty?”

She stared at him fully clothed, lips curling. “I don't think I can until there are a few...changes to things.” She murmured, crawling over slowly and straddling his legs. She noted how his eyes avidly watched hers, his chest quickly rising and falling. Her fingers hooked over the waistline of his pants and tugged as his hips lifted up. Her hands rapidly shifted to his stomach, fingers fanning out as they moved forward under his top and pulled it up as high as it would go. “Would you do the honors?”

He ripped the plastic and was about ready to grab himself when she beat him to it. He choked a little, hands halting and falling to the bed when her fingers moved after a second. “B – Bunty...you're...impossible. Ung. Yes...”

His hips could only go up so high to meet her movements with her weight covering inches below where she used to be sitting. She stared at him in fascination, watching the emotions play on his face and the noises coming from him. She let him lose himself in what she was doing, knowing he would return the favor tenfold over her way the second she was done.

She kept moving slowly and it was driving him mad. He was a willing prisoner and yet he wanted so badly to touch her everywhere. Over the rise of the tides of lust came the connection and need for her. Everything that transpired hours ago where he had torn himself down and she built him back up. She gave him all that she felt and provided him things to build from. To mingle with what flooded against the cracked and broken damn that was directed her way. To sweep her up in the rising tide of his own emotions.

“Bunty...I...won't last long if you...k – keep doing that...” He barely managed. His veins were boiling. She could finish him off if she just kept that up for a few more moments. While it would be a fantastic way to go, she would be unrequited and far be it to deny her what she had so pleasantly woken him up for. “Just give me...one second...”

She heard the rip of a wrapper and then his hand was fumbling over hers. She let go to let him finish the job and nearly scrambled forward when he finished. Her hand gripped him when he didn't, moving him back and forth over everything in torture. She gasped, head thrown back as her veins surged with everything.

Her quick breathing was just enough of a reminder that she wasn't as healthy and able as she always appeared. It took a few moments to realize he could form words, especially when she kept swinging him back and forth like that. “S – Samara...your...inhal – ah god... Where is it?”

She heard a growl of annoyance and it took a moment to figure out it was her. She knew if she didn't have it in reach it would stop everything until she found it and then she would be even worse than where she was now. Mostly because he was letting her continue whilst sending out a warning. He had told her that so long as she took her medicine, he wouldn't stop. She knew without a doubt more than before that if her safety was in jeopardy in any way, at any time, he would halt himself until she was safe. Even if he was grinding against her and close to release.

She heaved a sigh of sheer frustration and exited his lap and felt shoved back on the plateau she just dove off. She yanked it off the nightstand and glared at it. “Fucking lungs...” She bit out, hearing chuckling after a second. She speared him with a warning look, eyes narrowing. “Not one word Mr. Jones.”

His grin didn't lower, although he wisely kept quiet. “Are you ready now?”

She mentally snapped to, body moving faster than she thought it could. She resumed her place, seeing his amusement at her actions still in the corners of his mouth and crinkle of his eyes. “You think this is funny?” She heard herself say, hand tightly grabbing him. She buried him entirely in a second, hearing him gasp in time with her. She panted, harshly swallowing through a dry mouth. She almost felt lightheaded at it all. “You have a tendency to...tease me...Mr. Jones.” She withdrew, hand grabbing him again and barely rubbing him back and forth. “I can't...ah! S – say that...I like it...unf...that much sometimes.”

His hips bucked up when she took him in again. Harshly. Suddenly. His back arched as far as it would go, hearing her cry out as he shifted higher when he could go no further. She moaned, hips shifting forward a few inches, moving faster and farther when everything assaulted her. Her hands pressed against the muscles on his stomach for stability, but feeling them clenched under her fingers didn't help.

“Y – you...seem...ugh...to enjoy it – ah! Sometimes...” He rasped. His hands gripped the back of her knees, nails pressing into her thighs harder than he intended. His eyes refused to open, but it only made everything stronger. The slight weight, the heat, the tightness of her. Even when she used him for leverage to move did it register.

She wanted to go faster, harder. More. God, please. Yes! Her moans left as fast as she could breathe in, feeling desperate. The heat, shakiness...everything quivering in sheer pleasure. Of him. Of being with him.

“I love you...” She whispered, mind snapping.

The words hit him and his heart could've exploded. His eyes snapped open wide and stared at her as she bounced. His hands moved on their own and grasped her arms, pulling her to his chest and trapping her there. “Say that...again...” He managed, eyes tearing.

She couldn't move, but he did. She could feel him just as deeply at the angle she was held at. Her hands grabbed the pajama top in a death grip, mouth latching onto his neck. She moaned in his ear louder than she intended and only slightly hoped she didn't injure his eardrum. She lost herself for a few moments as he put her closer to the edge. “I love you Charles.”

The husky whisper in his ear had his grip tightening over her, driving against her in sheer abandon. He pushed hard and fast, the severe rush of emotion shoving her off the cliff fast and abruptly. Her entire body spasmed above him, arms and legs tight at his sides. “Charles! I'm – ah! Yes! Faster! Ah! God...yes! I l – love you! I love you! Charles! Yes! More!”

His hips bucked as if in a seizure. His face buried as well as it could in her hair as his spine contorted forward, trying to go around her as well as he came. “S – Sa...mara! Ah! You! Ugh!”

Her hand fumbled near his side, taking way too long to find her inhaler, but not wanting to move an inch away from him, outside of him. She didn't want him to pull out and let her feel empty. The sweat on their tops mingled together, the heat becoming an inferno despite the blankets off long ago. She finally connected with cool plastic and brought it to her mouth, angling it oddly so she didn't have to take her face away from his cheek. She pressed the medicine piece, easily dragging it into her lungs. The remaining strength died and her hand flopped onto the pillow, neck giving way. “I love you Charles Jones...” She whispered, lips nearly touching his ear.

He was drunk and intoxicated on every emotion she inspired in him. The high of his climax mingled with all she made him feel with the words so close to his ear. It invaded his eardrum, flooding every possible space air once had, making its way through the veins in his head all the way to the tips of his toes. Tears fell, but he wasn't sad at all. The feel of her skin meeting every inch of his, even though he couldn't truly feel her, was almost too much. His earthly human body couldn't handle the depth of it all and the lump in his throat kept him from speaking.

He didn't want to peel himself from her and he was glad she also didn't feel like moving. This break from life and reality was too precious for him to want to leave it for the world. The only thing that could force him to wind the clock back past the hour would be if she asked him to come with her. If she extended her hand, he would take it in a heartbeat and scamper behind her, entwining their fingers together so he couldn't lose hold of her grip.

Their breathing evened out, hearts returning to normal, but she had never felt like this before. So...complete. Strong. Able to do anything. Accepted entirely. Loved. He didn't say it back, but she didn't feel sad that he didn't. She knew he probably couldn't and although he hadn't said a word, his actions from nearly the beginning spoke of his feelings for her. She knew he must acknowledge something like it deep down to be able to treat her as he did. It was another coal to the fire and it made her smile.

She could wait. He was worth it, as he said she was. She only hoped that what she uttered in the heat of the moment wasn't taken incorrectly. He was aware that what she said weren't lies, but she didn't want him to think she was toying with him again just to feel him move inside her.

“Charles...you believe me, right?” She timidly asked, teeth nibbling her lip. She harshly swallowed, a rock of uncertainty splashing into the pool of love and making unwanted ripples to scar the unmoving surface. “I don't...don't want you to think I didn't mean it. I know earlier I said I couldn't say it, but...it felt okay just now. Normal. Natural.”

The level of question in her words made him snap to attention. His hands moved the second she paused, hearing the small hitch of waiting breath, and grasped her upper arms. He gently shifted her back, getting pliability in her movements as she went with him. He adjusted her enough to put her forearms on his chest for stability and wrapped a hand around her cheek. “I believe you Bunty. Wholeheartedly.” He tugged her mouth down, lips soft, brief. He pushed her back just enough to somehow see her eyes in the dark. His eyes darted between hers, seeing her face melt with relief and his lips tilted. “I just...still can't believe it. Even though you said it multiple times already.”

Her eyes teared and she launched her mouth at his. His hands shifted through her face, past her hair, and lightly grasping the back of it. Her arms slid past his collar bone and tried to wrap around his head as if embracing him to comfort him. Her tears dotted his cheeks, feeling more than just hers when her brain finally registered it. “I love you Charles.” She whispered into his mouth.

He gave a shuddery exhale, the word chipping away at the hesitation and boyish innocence. “Samara...you...I...”

Her mouth pulled away, fingers covering his instead. She could hear the reluctance in his voice and knew she needed to help him. “Shh...you don't have to force yourself. I know you may want to say it like I did earlier. But, don't feel like you have to Charles. I won't make you, even though I can say it to you.” She smiled, eyes full of love and smothered the unsureness in his. “I understand. It's okay. I just want to say it to you, but you don't have to say it to me. When you're ready, I'll have you repeat yourself as much as I want. But...I've known somewhere along the way. You might not be able to say it, but you've shown it. Many times. That's enough for me for now.”

He could only nod. His heart swelled with the word, but it was stuck on his tongue. He was still afraid of it all and while he had known love long ago and recognized what it felt like, the bubble surrounding them clearly being it, he couldn't take that first step yet. His lips parted in need to reciprocate, but he couldn't.

She saw the war in his eyes, the way they darted around hers. The tent of his brow in pity for her. The way he still wanted to force himself to mention something akin to it. She didn't want him to beat himself up over a brief inability as he became comfortable with her and smiled before pulling away. Perhaps a change was needed since he wouldn't accept her words. “Maybe we should clean up for a second and then cuddle?”

He blinked, the whole turmoil suddenly spun around on itself and shoved away as she straightened and he fell out. He sat up on his elbows, watching as she unbuttoned the shirt and slid it off her arms. The curve of her breasts, the arch of her back, the thinness of her legs. She was a goddess and he practically floated off up to be near her. He divulged the pants the rest of the way, the shirt also going. “Should we take a quick shower? There's room for both of us after all.”

She smiled his way and nodded. She held her hand out and he quickly took it, eyes raking over her as she rounded the bed and grabbed the bag sitting near the nightstand on her side. She closed her eyes as he turned the light on, standing there for a second as her eyes adjusted. She dropped her bag on the sink with every intent on getting her shower items out, but when she turned enough to see his chest in its entirety, her arms went around his waist instead.

He stared down at her form, feeling her skin much better now that they had gotten rid of everything. His arms went around her as well, smile forming on its own, head dipping to the top of hers. He felt the swell of breast against his chest, but it didn't endanger the moment she put them in again.

She could only steal so much heat from him before the chill of the night in the bathroom was too much. She shivered and pulled away, looking up with a shy smile. “Okay...I'm cold.” She cracked, smile widening as he chuckled.

“It's a good thing I fancy my water nice and steamy.” He lightly returned, holding the shower door open for her. He turned the faucet to a high temperature and stuck his hand in to check it. “Is this good?” He asked, looking her way.

It was a tad on the hot side, but her hands were cold and thus she attributed it to the drastic change in feel. “I like hot water.” She answered, stepping under the spray.

He took in how the droplets covered her front, avidly paying attention to them as they raced from top to the drain below. He wished to trade places with them and it stole his attention for a few minutes. It took for her hands to raise and start lathering her hair to break his reverie. He mentally snapped to and copied her, quickly soaping and rinsing off.

She swapped with him when she finished cleaning the conditioner from her hair so he could do the same. She dripped a little, squeezing the excess water from her hair. Only when he turned the water off did she step from the glass enclosure for a towel. One went around her torso, the other her hair. She watched him dry off, teeth biting her lip a little as he slid the cotton down his legs. She whipped over when he looked her way, face flushing a little that he caught her staring. Then checked herself at why she should care. 'He's probably looking at you right now. He'd be flattered if you did the same to him.'

She glanced back over to find she was right. She smiled his way, seeing him return the sentiment and took the towel off her head to dry it. She couldn't see him walk forward and jumped a little when his hands covered hers, continuing to tussle it over her head. Her heart fluttered, arms dropping as she let him do as he wished. Her head bent forward a little as he continued for unknown minutes until the towel was suddenly removed. By the time her eyes accustomed to the light again, he had turned the hair dryer on and was running his fingers through her hair.

She hummed in appreciation. She wanted to rest against him as he did his magic, but his arms were too long for that. She somehow managed to stand despite wanting to rest and let the feel continue. He seemed in no hurry to dry her hair and she was sad when it clicked off.

“Would you do the honors?”

Her eyes fluttered open, looking to the black appliance, hand mindlessly going for it. She looked up and smiled wryly. “You'll need to bend down Mr. Jones. Don't think I can reach that far up.”

He grinned and kneeled in front of her, facing the high hem of the towel and suddenly, desperately wanting to snatch it from her and put his face at the apex of her legs. It was such a heady desire that he couldn't blink even though hair got in his eyes. But he pointedly closed them in order to enjoy her ministrations instead, knowing it was just as good.

She went longer than she probably should've, the ability to ruffle his hair to anime heights making her want to keep going. The initial minutes were on the need to touch him, but then the lightheartedness changed her attitude, making it more fun. She was just as sad when she clicked off the device and set it on the sink. “All done.” She announced, taking a step back.

He stood and lightly kissed her forehead. “My thanks Bunty.” He murmured. He turned to put the hair dryer back, taking only a quick moment and then reaching out and tugging the edge of the towel out from its confines.

She jumped at the sudden movement, adrenaline going through her as his eyes roamed from top to bottom. Teeth bit her lip as she pointedly kept her eyes on his torso, face hot. Even after everything they just did a bit ago. She didn't know why she felt embarrassed to have him look at her. Then he merely turned and hung the towel up to dry and moved around her for the door. She inhaled a deep breath for a bit of patience and quietly watched him gather up the used pajamas for the laundry basket in the corner before going into a drawer for a new pair. She took the long-sleeved top, buttoning it up again and pulling the covers back. On leg was in, the other halfway covered up before she looked to him as he copied her and a thought struck. “I guess that shower was kind of pointless if we're not going to wash the sheets.” She admitted, shaking her head.

He snorted and sat up. He stared at her for a second, eventually getting her eyes. “Shall we make it more so then?”

A brow went up. “I don't get it.”

He leaned forward to gently kiss her. “Would you be cross with me if I wished to have you a second time tonight?” He kissed her again, the hand not holding him up going through her hair and ruffling the smell of shampoo to his nose. “I thoroughly enjoyed what you did Samara, make no mistake on that. The first one can be yours. Let the second one be for me.”

Her heart was already accelerating, legs shaking a little. She managed a tiny nod and went with his insistence to lie down. She stared at him as best she could without her glasses and the dark. The hair fell around his eyes as stared down from above her. She remained immobile, waiting to see what he wanted to do.

“If you'll permit me the gift of time Bunty, I'd like to stretch out the most of the remaining evening mapping out your skin like the water just did. I want to make love to you Samara, not fuck you.” A hand rose and went for a button, slowly undoing it. “I want to know every inch of your body as I now know of your emotions.” His lips lowered, getting a peal of unintended laughter at the breath slowly exhaled on her neck. It made him smile for a second. “You've given me so much. Since you don't require me to say anything tonight, let me show you as much as I can just how much I value you...what I feel for you. How grateful I am. How much I always want you. How I can never get enough of you.”

The muscles inside her thighs jumped at the final, husky words leaving his mouth. The heat from his words fanned over her collar bone, the barest traces of the cool night trying to steal the heat from every piece of skin he exposed, only to be covered up with his mouth instead.

He painstakingly opened a small portion of the top and lavished it with the proper attention before continuing on. He moved around just enough, almost wishing the light were on so he could see her skin this close up. Perhaps another time. This night, he could let his fingers and mouth be his eyes. They had yet to take a good turn and were finally afforded one.

There was one section he managed to get to just enough before she was too ticklish to let him continue; her neck. He managed to lick it a few times, finding a small scar near the hollow of her throat. “What is this from?” He quietly asked, fingers touching the blemish lightly.

“My trachea implant.” She whispered, eyes closed and tuned into his voice and hands. Her heart was racing from the few moments he had given her, chest filling the room. “I...had one put in a few times when I was a child.”

Knowing that almost killed every erotic thing he wanted to do as he imagined her lying in a hospital bed with her throat cut open enough to stick a tube down and help her breathe. But it only added to the overall picture that made up Samara Young. She only shone brighter, not seem weaker. It made her more amazing in his eyes and he knew right then and there why Samuel put his daughter on such a high pedestal.

“It's beautiful.” He breathed. He heard the sharp intake of her breath, but moved on to find other such life wounds. Remaining evidence that she had lived, that she had made mistakes from adventures, yet became better for them.

It took languid strokes of his tongue and hands over her arms to find a small cut that had almost blended in with the rest of her skin. She only recently started wearing revealing clothing and he wondered if he would need good lighting in order to even see it as it was near the front of her upper arm, but he never noticed.

“That...” She rasped, eyes closed in bliss. “Th – that's from...a time I tried to play super hero in the living room. I fell off a tower of pillows from the couch...and landed just right on the edge of the coffee table. I was...too embarrassed to tell my family about it...and it never healed just right.” She quietly moaned as his touch moved on. “I think I was...five.”

He licked the pads of her hands and fingers, finding them slightly rough. “Anything here?”

She tried to take a few steady breaths. “G...games. A decade of...video games... And...when I was eight...I asked mom to teach me to sew because I...wanted to make a cosplay costume. Too many...punctures with a needle at my inexperience.”

He moved to the lower parts of her arms, getting a small squeal when he hit the inner crook. He smiled a little, eyes darting up to her for a moment. “All of your time in the hospital...was there anything in here as well?”

“IVs.” She mumbled, hearing a slightly distasteful noise come from him.

“Y – yes...of course.” He quickly bypassed the front of her arms where they would have gone and moved up to a safer location. He licked down the top part of her ribcage, finding it smooth. He found a breast and received a cry for his discovery. “There can't be anything here. These are too perfect.” His hands rose and cupped one. He ran his nose over a nipple, hearing her whimper, feeling her back arch for more pressure. “You certainly don't give your figure enough credit. I'll have to give it plenty of attention so that you think as much of yourself as I do.”

Her ears drank that voice, the low pitch, the delicate and affectionate words. She tried to keep her moans as quiet as possible so that she didn't miss anything. His touch was so light, no heavier than the shirt that had been resting over her moments ago. Her mouth remained parted to take in air at an even pace, attempting to keep her medicine away as long as possible. The way he touched her stoked the fires, but not as hot as it had when she nearly begged for his touch maybe an hour ago. The fuzziness from the previous high seemed like a cement base to stand on and build the next level from. One stemming from sheer emotional connection.

He avoided the patch she might want him to touch next, hands going around her inner thighs for the sides of her hips. Nothing was there despite moments of attending to them and he moved to the tops of her thighs. He could smell her and while he wanted her again, he wanted time with every part of her more. He had many times of feeling the inside of her and felt the rest was sorely wanting. He wanted to miss nothing in his quest to map everything out.

His hand went behind a knee and slowly rose her leg, draping it over a shoulder. His lips slowly dragged themselves away from her upper thigh to a knee. His fingers found another ticklish spot and she writhed under him a little, but hardly breaking the spell he had her under. He hoped she liked this as much as he relished doing it. He was never given the chance with anyone he had in his bed in California. Not even with Gwen.

He went down a calf to a foot, feeling her jerk when his tongue found the bottom. He stared at her as she tried to catch her breath, lips tilting fondly at the view she presented him. The moon outlined just enough of her for him, but not as good as his mouth and hands had done. He stuck each toe in his mouth, hearing her cry his name and harshly swallowed. She kept switching off between moans and giggling whenever he sucked on certain toes over others. He memorized everything, leaving nothing out and making sure to do what he could to make sure nothing would be forgotten to the sands of time.

Once he went back up her other leg, he licked his way up her stomach to the other breast, stopping at her other ear. He gently took it in his mouth for a second, tongue darting into her ear. “Flip onto your back for me Bunty.”

She blinked, but slowly did as instructed. A hand came out and brushed the stubborn hair refusing to fall forward and cover her face. His lips took up their spot as he touched her back, feeling her jerk under him in spots. His hands followed the curve of her lower spine, mouth and tongue covering the space from her lower back to upper thigh.

She buried her head in the pillow lest she deafen the both of them with her noises. She called his name into the fabric, singing praises when his fingers dipped inside just once, whining when he didn't go back to it.

He went down the back of one leg and up the other. He could hear how much of a roiling boil she was on and leaned over in his stance to snag yet another square from his drawer. It made his lips raise to know he was going to want to get another box soon lest he upset her by not having anything ready to use. Far be it to deny her and him the noises she was undoing him with.

“You're the most ravishing woman I've ever had the pleasure of undoing Bunty.” He murmured against her back. He straddled the sides of her legs, hands pressing the mattress down near her ribcage. His head dipped to her ear, nose idly moving her hair around. “Would you mind if I entered you like this?”

Her jaw clenched, the air leaving her in a whoosh. She moved from the pillow, gulping air. She shoved it away so she could breathe and was reminded of something else. “Inhaler...nightstand...” She mumbled, finger pointing to it.

He moved it within reach and rubbed himself against her rear a few times. He listened to her whine, a few moans wrenching from him as he lowered himself enough to nudge her further. “You feel so good Samara.” He breathed, hand moving to steady him. “I...can't hold back anymore.”

She cried out as he moved as far as he could. He quickly changed everything he had just been doing and sped up drastically. He lost himself in her, primal need stealing his brain, her noises driving him on. He could feel everything building, but wanted to hear her cry his name. In one motion, he let his hips meet hers, hands snaking to her stomach and yanking her to her knees.

She yelped as she was suddenly moved upright, but her brain had no time to think of anything as he kept moving, nails in her skin. Her head couldn't decide if it wanted to hang forward or pull back. She fumbled for her inhaler, two shots quickly being dragged in. She dropped the medicine, hand trailing off the bed and finding the extra push she wanted. Her fingers moved just enough, barely a few seconds in, before she was hit hard.

She fumbled with words, noises making intelligent speak impossible. Head head arched back, feeling his hand on her shoulder. His nails dug into her skin when he suddenly jerked, choking her name back at her. He kept moving at an erratic pace, having her nearly begging for him to stop lest she not even make it to sleep.

He panted for air when he finally stopped, remaining buried as the final twitches had his veins buzzing, head foggy. He heavily leaned on the hands supporting him on the bed, mouth attempting a few clumsy kisses in its inability to work properly.

She flopped onto her forearms, feeling her heart slow, but her inner legs throb still. Her brain tuned into it as they halted time to walk down from that mountain together and let herself feel everything entirely. It was only when she shivered from the returning cool air that he pulled away to take care of things and let her return to his night shirt.

She had just barely finished buttoning it up when he returned and started putting his own clothes back on. She openly watched him, even when he met her eyes and his hands halted on the last few buttons. She felt her lips curl and she crawled to the edge of the bed, lips finding the space over his heart and giving it a lingering kiss. Her arms went around his waist lightly, still shaking too much to exude a strong grip. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but knew that he could figure that out well enough from everything she was doing.

Just as she knew from all he had just done for who knew how long.

“Would you prefer to do this lying down?” He finally queried, feeling bad for breaking the silence. He met her eyes, seeing her nod, and let her move to her pillow first before going to his side. He turned to face her, hand and elbow propping his head up. The back of his fingers brushed across her cheek idly, blue eyes watching his work. He met her eyes whenever the digits moved to the top and repeat their motions, but felt more compelled to imprint everything he was doing to his eyes.

“Thank you.” She breathed, smiling softly.

His brow furrowed in confusion a little. “For what?”

She snorted, brow going up. “Well...I don't know if you need me to clarify, but okay.” She scooted forward and gently kissed him. “For being you. You perfect, jaded, impeccable, clumsy, gorgeous example of a human being.” She took the hand hanging on the bed between them and settled against her pillow. “It feels like it's just us in the whole world.”

His lips tilted sweetly, face warming a little. “It's all thanks to you Bunty.” His head came forward, tapping her forehead a little with his and staying there. “I could not have chosen a more perfect, fitting individual to spend my days and night with. Thank you for giving me such a memory. Thank you for putting your faith and trust in me. Now you know what it means to me. That's why I cherish you all the more.”

She kissed his knuckles and tucked the hand near her face. “I don't know what time it is...but I just know we're going to be in a world of hurt tomorrow.” Her lips tilted. “Coffee tomorrow at Dee's place?”

“It's a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::Mops up the blood:: ::passes out extra tissues::


	29. a lovely day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ride went too fast, the elevator to their floor not slow enough. Despite how he was probably going to be separated from her plausibly till lunch, his heart was fine with that. It had new walls plastered with pictures of her from their memories together to look at in the meantime. An expansive, shiny place full of meadows and blue skies to rest in. Soft, warm breezes and flowers along her pictures to bring beautiful smells on the wind.

Something was tickling his nose. It managed to break past the blissful darkness he had been in all night. The evening had been full of ups and downs, happiness and pleasure. All of the tears he had cried were now dry and felt so far away. His bed was warm, and he eventually that registered she was in his arms and it was her hair that was in his face.

He took a deep breath as his mind cleared, the smell of her shampoo meeting his nostrils. It was another notch in what felt right and okay. She was warm and small and fit so well in his arms. His chest was already so full of those three words she shared last night, but it kept expanding even now. He didn't think that he could take anything more. The arm under her neck squeezed as he held her a little tighter, face burying in her hair. She stirred a little, but didn't wake.

His eyes rose to the ceiling windows above, the darkness dissipating enough to see past his bed. The inside chill was warded off by the heat they shared, the wish to see what time it was more of an annoyance than a help. His phone alarm hadn't gone off yet, but it would soon. The world would reappear, responsibilities inevitable. He wanted to kick his legs like a child at having to go inside after hours of playing. He finally had her in his arms like this, many things were straightened out and clarified, and he had to let her go yet again.

The alarm sounded in the quiet, mocking him.

He had to let go of her in order to shut it off. Trying to roll the other side with her neck trapping his other arm still didn't afford him enough reach. He needed to fully disengage, but he really didn't want to.

She shifted with a quiet groan and he directed his lips to her forehead. "Bunty... I must get my arms free to turn off my alarm. Bunty..."

Her lashes fluttered up, a yawn coming from her. The noise hit her brain sooner than her surroundings and she sat up on reflex to shut it off. She looked around, feeling the bed shift and turned to that side. She took in tousled hair, the ruffled pajama top, and a yawn. She mimicked him and scratched the back of her head.

He met her eyes, lips tilting at how adorable she was when she was sleepy. The last week when they were in bed, there wasn't as good of a moment as what they shared. Her hair seemed more tousled, the sleepy eye rub more childlike, and her hunched posture more adorable. He openly stared at her, even after she noticed him watching her.

She blinked slightly stunned eyes before her face melted into a happy smile. "Good morning Charles."

His face melted at the strength of his devotion as it reared its head. A hand reached out on its own and cupped her cheek. "Good morning Bunty..." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, getting a silly giggle for his efforts. Soft eyes took in the blush, her mood infectious.

He got off the bed, divesting his pajamas for the wash and stared at her frozen where she sat. "Are you planning on showering this morning? I don't mind sharing the hot water."

Last night came back to her. Even after they did so already, they did something after and nullified all that soap and shampoo. It was probably a good idea to make sure all the sweat was washed off... She flushed at the thought of her co-workers mentioning how she smelled and what happened, then practically ran past him for the bathroom.

He had forgotten the domestic side concerning all of this. It was so nice to share space, to bump elbows, to hand a towel over for use. To dry her hair and let her return the favor. To get dressed in the same space and admire her figure as she covered it up with yet another purple garment and plain black tights. To watch her watch him as he fixed his tie and tuck in the green shirt he let her pick out. To brush his teeth with her and take turns rinsing the extra toothpaste from their mouths. To handing her a full coffee cup and see her head to the fridge looking for cream. To make an extra helping of breakfast and pile it onto two plates. To have pleasant conversation while eating and discuss the day. To playfully argue about who was taking care of the dishes. To grab their things and head to the door.

He couldn't take anymore of this. It was all too much and he felt like he was on a runner's high. Life had never been more rose-colored than this moment. All because of three little words.

"Samara."

She turned in the doorway, fully facing him when he didn't move and took a few steps inside to him. Her hand idly gripped the strap at a shoulder, head tilting to the side. "Charles? Is something wrong?"

His head shook, arms coming up to cup the side of her face. "No Bunty...everything is just fine."

Her face warmed, huge smile on her face as his lips tenderly rested over her forehead. Her palms came up and covered his wrists, brow furrowing up a little at how sweet the moment was.

"I'm not too sure a sweatshirt is good assistant general manager protocol, but I'll let it slide because you look so adorable in it."

She giggled a little. "And I'm not too sure salmon pink goes with mint green, but you can pull off anything, so it's okay."

He grinned and snaked a finger under her chin. "Would...would you mind saying those three little words again? Just to...get me through the morning? I may need them once your father sees us."

She scowled at the thought of her dad coming in between them and rested a hand over his heart. "Don't worry about my dad Charles. Once he sees how much I love you, he'll back off for my happiness." She reached up on her tiptoes and gave a quick peck on the lips. "Because you make me happier than I've ever known."

His arms were around her in a second, mouth meeting hers fully. "That's my line..." He breathed once he pulled away.

An alarm suddenly went off nearby and he looked around.

She jumped and untangled herself from him for her purse. "That's my thirty minute warning to be on time." She mumbled, pressing the dismiss button.

"Then we should get going." He replied, stepping back and picking his briefcase off the floor.

The elevator ride was quiet, but he remedied any discomfort by entwining her fingers with his. She rested their shoulders together until they exited the structure and he opened her door and helped her in despite her fully capable of doing so. She didn't say one word and he was glad she was letting him pamper her, now more-so than ever.

He didn't know what to say the whole time there. Not because it was uncomfortable, but because there were so many ecstatic butterflies in his stomach. He wanted to ramble on about a variety of topics, if only to hear her thoughts on them and listen to her voice. The ride went too fast, the elevator to their floor not slow enough. Despite how he was probably going to be separated from her plausibly till lunch, his heart was fine with that. It had new walls plastered with pictures of her from their memories together to look at in the meantime. An expansive, shiny place full of meadows and blue skies to rest in. Soft, warm breezes and flowers along her pictures to bring beautiful smells on the wind.

He let her pass through the front door, greeting Lucy with a more content look than he probably ever had. He didn't miss the raised brow at him walking in time with Samara, but only smiled as he passed the small reception area for their offices. He matched her pace, which was slower than his, and taking those few jealous seconds of her time in her office as she set her bag on the desk.

He watched her turn and fidget a little, face red through a grin. His hand came out and lightly rested on an upper arm. "I'm afraid I may have a few meetings this morning which might make it tough to work together. Perhaps in the afternoon, we may take up the same office and I can bring my laptop in at your table."

"It's a date." She cracked, leaning her head up as his came down.

A noise sounding very similar to a strangled cry of agony had them both whipping their faces to the doorway.

'Of course he's here...' Charles nearly retorted, fighting a sigh.

"Good morning Mr. Young."

"J...Jones..." Samuel got out through clenched teeth.

She took a step in front of Charles, seeing one of Samuel's eyes twitch and his body nearly shake. She bet he was two seconds away from throttling Charles and it was time for damage control. "Dad...I believe we need to have a morning meeting." She pointedly announced, serious eyes on his.

She locked eyes with a man who could hurt Charles in more ways than she could imagine and probably would have taken a step to do so had she not been standing in between them. Newly opened eyes, always partially squinting at her father's actions, finally saw the near loathing he was throwing over her head to the man behind her. She cleared her throat and turned to Charles, giving a reassuring smile. "You have a few minutes...right?" She asked, taking his free hand in hers.

The actions she was openly showing to her father, the attention she was giving him instead, the words she spouted, had him relaxing. Charles nodded and looked into upset brown. "I'll just need a second to put my things away and then I'll meet you in Mr. Young's office, Bunty."

She nodded, taking note about how he didn't look at her when he said all that. She felt like she was watching two dogs fighting over a chew toy and wanted to roll her eyes at it all. She spied a glance at her computer, knowing that she was going to end up behind today unless she kept this short and let her dad cry in his office alone or spend the next hour consoling him over something he wasn't going to be able to change. The thought of trying to reassure him that she'd always be 'his little girl' made her want to put her face in her hands. Charles made her happy and if Samuel couldn't see that, she was going to need to call her mother and ask the woman to bash him over the head.

She followed Samuel into his office and not even five seconds after he closed the door did he wait to break down and start bawling.

"P - Pumpkin!" Samuel wailed. His arms quickly drew her to him and she felt the air go out of her for a second. "Don't make your dear old dad see something like that ever again! I know I said I'd help you however I could, but my dad heart isn't ready to see you k - kiss a boy!"

"Dad!" She mumbled, trying to push away from him. "I can't breathe!"

His arms released her in a split second, but his tears didn't stop. "My poor pumpkin is all grown up! It's too much! I wasn't ready for this! I need your mother! Where's my cell phone?!"

She watched him walk for his desk and heaved a sigh, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose around her glasses before the door clicked open. She looked up in slight annoyance, locking eyes with Charles's.

"I see I haven't missed anything..."

She sighed loud enough for him to hear, shaking her head a little. "It may get loud in here Charles..."

"Honey?! You're not going to believe this!"

She looked over a shoulder to find her unnecessarily distraught father with his cell phone at his ear. She arranged herself to lean against Charles, feeling his chin on her head and his arms around her waist. "Are you sure you want his head to explode this early in the morning?" Charles asked, lips tilted, anticipating what was to happen once they were spotted.

She giggled a little, pausing when Samuel turned in his pacing and found them together. Her eardrums attempted to handle the sheer volume of his crying and blubbering. She winced a few times, not wanting to move her hands away from Charles's in order to save her hearing. "Maybe we should just let mom talk him off the cliff..." She mumbled, wanting to get back to work. "I didn't get half the stuff done that I needed to yesterday and I'm really behind."

"Is there any way I can help with that?"

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. "You have meetings this morning, don't you Mr. Jones?"

"They aren't all day Miss Young..."

She giggled at the play, feeling like they were all in their own little bubbles; hers and Charles filled with warmth and happiness while Samuel's was filled with a mental breakdown. She gave her dad another minute on the phone with her mom before regrettably stepping from the hold and stopped at the large desk. "Dad? Dad!" She waited until his eyes were on hers before a hand reached out. "Please give me the phone."

It looked like he had no intention of doing so, but she kept her resolve and he finally did so, slumping in his desk. She also sat down, looking behind and waving Charles over. She didn't even get a word in to her mother before a devastated look was directed Charles's way. "Jones...you don't need to sit so close just yet. In fact, move your chair five feet to the wall."

"He's fine where he is dad." She nearly grumbled with a sigh. "Good morning mom."

"Hello honey. What's this I hear about you and a boy?"

She smiled and snuck a look at Charles to find him watching her. "Can you help calm dad down for me? He's been doing this for probably five minutes now and I've got a lot of work to catch up on from yesterday. While I would love to spend the next hour with him to do so myself, I can't do that because I'm in love with Charles and dad needs to see that."

Samuel gave a cry of anguish, dropping his head in his hands. "No! It's too soon! I'm not prepared for this! Please don't say that!"

Charles took a deep breath to find the control he always needed over the overly emotional man in front of him, nonchalantly crossing his leg over the other. "Mr. Young. I think it's safe to assume that while I rescinded my position to Miss Young yesterday, I am taking my words back. As you know the reasons for my words then, those are now nonexistent and I would very much like to keep working for this company for many more years to come."

Samuel wiped his face and tried not to glare. The two stared at each other until Samuel finally sat back in his chair with a sigh. "I never wanted you to quit Jones." A finger tapped on the armrest in a fidget. "I guess...I owe you an apology for my behavior as well. For my peachy pumpkin poo and making her as sad as she was yesterday. I love her with all my heart and it's going to take some time for me to get used to this...but..." His face twitched, obviously having a hard time getting the words out. "I'm sorry...for hurting you two."

She almost dropped the phone. Wide eyes locked on her father's mouth having fallen open. 'Did I just hear him correctly?!'

Charles sat forward in the chair. It was a hesitant decision, but one he felt needed to be done. His hand floated over the desk, awaiting the burlier hand, watching as Samuel's eyes darted from his hand to his eyes. "I accept your apology Mr. Young." His lips tilted a little. "I won't let you or your daughter down."

Samuel heaved a sigh, looking away as he shook hands. It lasted all of a second, as if he made himself to do so, before he looked her way with an extended hand. "Pumpkin...I still need to talk to your mom."

She jumped. "Oh! Right. You might not need to worry mom. Here's dad. I'll talk to you later. Love you."

"Love you two dear. You go enjoy being with that nice man now. Give him my thanks."

She handed the phone over and stood, bidding her father goodbye and stepping through the threshold Charles created once he opened the door for her. "That went over more painlessly than I imagined." She mused in confusion, waving Lucy's baffled look away. "I thought for sure he was going to break your hand!"

He chuckled a little, heading back to the hallway their offices were in. “I think your presence in the room has helped more than you can imagine Samara.” He paused in front of his door, hand holding the doorknob as he faced her. “Shall we finally head out to that fast food place for lunch today?”

She grinned and nodded, feeling like all was right in the world. “I promise!” She vowed, fist up.

She looked too adorable and he couldn't help himself. Even though Lucy was still able to see and hear them, he didn't care. He stepped forward and cradled a cheek in his hand. His lips met hers for a moment, feeling her lean into him a little more. He finally, sadly pulled away and gave her a soft look. “Promise. Have a good day Bunty. If you need me, please don't hesitant to knock on my door.” His lips tilted. “In fact, I prefer if you did. I shall be terribly lonely in there without you.”

It was a fight to take the smile down a few pegs lest it break her face in two. Her face heated like the sun, but her heart fluttered. “Ah...well...maybe after those meetings you can come work in my office like you said...”

He kissed her once more before slowly turning. He stopped in the archway, eyes taking in everything to get him through the next few hours. “I'll see you soon Bunty.” He murmured, bowing his head a little before quietly shutting the door behind him.

She wanted to squeal, to jump around the hall, to giggle like an idiot. Hands clapped over her cheeks as she did a little of all three before figuring he could hear her and nearly slammed the door in embarrassment to escape. Once in her room, she allowed herself a few more seconds of allowing sheer joy to escape before looking to her desk.

She pouted as she stared at the items she still hadn't utilized yet. “Ugh...how am I supposed to work today knowing that all this is going to happen?!” She put her head in her hands with a sigh. She peeked through her fingers after a second, forcing herself to suck it up. “Charles is in no better shape than you.” She mumbled, throwing her hands to her sides and telling herself to stop being a baby. “But he knows there's money to be made so we can all get paid. Maybe you should do the same Samara Young.” She immediately plopped into the chair and turned her computers on, teeth biting a thumb as she waited. “Maybe if I get ahead enough, I can slack off a little for when works in here with me later.”

Dark brown eyes spied the other side of the room. That was probably going to be the best plan. If she could look over at him and see him working any second of the afternoon that she wanted, she wasn't going to get much done. Best to catch up and then sail forward now so she didn't have to freak out when normal hours were over and she was still behind.

Taking a deep breath for focus, she pulled up the email list for the morning and started in. She felt a deep sense of resolve that she hadn't known since after her expensive dinner with Charles. Back when she was so happy and felt like a ray of sunshine for all.

Was this what it was like to be in love? She had never known it with someone outside her family, although the similarities were there. The happiness, the feeling of closeness, of trust, being able to share laughter and good times. She wondered how many more fun instances like this that she was going to be able to get with Charles and hoped they could many things of something and nothing as often as possible.

'Hmm...nothing huh?'

She looked to the date. She still had enough time to announce to Abe and not worry about short-changing the guild. She smiled and turned for her phone, the idea sounding so right and fantastic that she didn't think twice. Boss mounts and gear could wait, Charles needed to know she cared about him and she had been horrible this week about doing so.

 _Abe._ _I'm_ _texting_ _you_ _now_ _to_ _let_ _you_ _know_ _that_ _I_ _won't_ _be_ _in_ _on_ _Friday_ _night's_ _raid._ _I've_ _got_ _plans._

She didn't feel a shred of guilt when she sent the button. All Abe sent back was confirmation and for her to have fun and see her next Friday if she was free. She put the phone back and wished it were already that day.

An idea started forming in her head. One that she wanted to do tonight, but maybe they could make a whole weekend out of it. She spent a few minutes fleshing out the basic idea of it and was practically giddy by the time the main points were done. It took slapping her cheeks and some harsh ordering to get back to work so she didn't get up immediately and tell Charles to see what he thought.

She already knew his answer anyway.

A ding came from her phone as she got maybe a few hours in and it went off again before she could grab it from her bag.

 _What's_ _this_ _I_ _hear_ _you_ _have_ _plans_ _on_ _Friday_ _that_ _aren't_ _raid_ _related?!_ _Spill!!_

She grinned and clicked on her phone to start typing.

 _I_ _want_ _to_ _spend_ _that_ _time_ _with_ _Charles._ _It's_ _been_ _a_ _while._ _I_ _don't_ _think_ _I've_ _told_ _you_ _guys_ _anything_ _that's_ _been_ _going_ _on._ _We're_ _going_ _out_ _now._

Less than a minute later she got a response.

 _Say_ _what?!?!_ _Are_ _you_ _kidding?!_ _We_ _need_ _to_ _hang_ _out_ _soon_ _and_ _get_ _caught_ _up!_ _I_ _don't_ _care_ _if_ _you_ _bring_ _him_ _over_ _here_ _or_ _we_ _go_ _to_ _your_ _place!_ _I_ _need_ _info!_

She smiled at Angela's outburst and looked to the closed door when she heard a click. There was a small knock. “Come in.”

A ray of sunshine met them on both sides of the desk. Charles smiled and leaned against the doorway, hands in his pockets. “Should we leave a few minutes early to avoid traffic Bunty? I do recall the noon hour is possibly the worst time to be there.”

Her eyes jerked to the laptop and widened. “Is it that late already?! I didn't even notice!”

He watched her grab her bag and sling it over a shoulder, phone in her hand. A brow went up, the need to tease her ever-present. “Pray tell Samara, were you texting instead of working?”

She knew that tone and goodheartedly scowled at him. “If you must know I was getting something set up for the weekend. Also, my friends might want to meet you and for me to get them caught up on us.”

He stepped away from the door, following behind her as they headed down the hallway. He bid Lucy a good lunch and let her again pass him for the main exit to the elevators down to the underground parking lot. He held the door open for her and shut it before getting into his side. He ignored her good-natured jabs at never going to be able to open a door again as he backed out of the parking spot.

“If it were up to me Bunty, there'd be a bunch more things I'd take over for you.”

A brow rose. “Like what?”

“Always drying you off and drying your hair for you. Picking out your clothes to see you in the best thing every day. To hold your hand wherever we go. Doing all of the dishes to every meal I'd make you. Never hearing you mention money to me in my presence again. Possibly some others not off the top of my head.”

She was hot as the sun as she imagined him doing all of that. “Are you intending on feeding me too when we get there or am I at least able to hold my own spoon?” She wryly retorted.

He grinned. “Only because I also need that time to eat.”

She burst out laughing, hearing him join in for a few blocks.

“Charles Jones. You are one incorrigible man!”

“And you're one bewitching individual Samara Young.”

She undid the seatbelt and snuck out of the door before he could round it entirely. “No you are.” She playfully jabbed, taking his arm as he held it out for her.

He let go only long enough to grab the door. “After you.”

“No you.” She repeated, feeling almost giddy.

He returned her grin, liking the fun that suddenly cropped up. “I insist. After you.”

“Excuse me please.”

The pair jumped aside at the insistent voice behind them so someone else could get in. Her head ducked as she scurried after, forgetting that the world existed outside themselves. “Guess we shouldn't do that in the doorway.” She mumbled, feeling his fingers entwining with hers.

She leaned against his arm a little as she studied the menu, not able to get a full-sized burrito, but figuring she could always take it back with and have dinner out of it. She mentally picked out all of her items, the line never taking long enough to be able to decide on one thing over the other while in it.

“Please go ahead Bunty.”

She looked to him, finding him standing behind her and the glint in her eye returned. “No you.” She repeated, grin splitting her face.

“At the wish to continue this, perhaps others in line wouldn't prefer us to.” He redirected, though it was hard not to continue the play he was so thoroughly enjoying. “Perhaps during lunch or after.”

She looked to the four people behind them and nodded. They ordered and he paid once again, telling her to go find them a table as he grabbed the tray with everything loaded on it. She chose the patio again and adjusted the overhead umbrella, managing to take her items off before he could get to them. “Ha! I got my own stuff!” She cracked.

He laughed as he straightened his tie while he sat. “This one time Bunty. Don't consider it a win in your favor for long though. I'm much quicker than you.”

She giggled and dug into the mound in the bowl they had both selected.

This was absolutely fantastic. The food was delicious, the temperature perfect, the company excellent, and she managed to get caught up on everything she had been behind on before lunchtime. It felt like she was back in his apartment on that Saturday, only this time she managed to snatch that happiness and take it with her wherever she went. It was now her own little charm to attach to her bag and reminisce whenever she felt like it. Her heart felt so full and she couldn't contain herself. She felt like she could vibrate out of her chair and smother Charles with kisses all over his face! While that sounded like an absolutely fabulous idea, maybe later. They did have work to return to.

But this kind of strong emotion wouldn't leave her. Even if they had to part for the rest of the work day, he was still in her veins, in her head, in her heart. She had given him that place and hopefully he felt a fraction of what she did.

She couldn't help but jump out of her seat, lips meeting his without waiting for him to finish chewing his food.

He startled, eyes flying open. He gave a few muffled noises, finally wrapping his hand under her chin to direct her back so he could finish the bite in his mouth. He took in the gleeful eyes and pink cheeks, forgiving her for spilling a little food on him.

“Sorry... I just had to do that.” She admitted.

He smiled, a small blush overtaking him as well. It had been a very long time to do any public display of affection and it was slightly discomfiting to do so. But only slightly. Seeing the joyful innocence on her face made him feel like the surrounding occupants were gone and it was just them again. “As do I.” He responded, meeting her lips again.

She leaned forward, hand coming out to cup his face as he did her. She only broke the kiss when a small squeal bubbled up and erupted, not able to be kept inside any longer. She became a mass of giggles and red face, shoulders hunched up to her ears.

Seeing her like that, knowing that he inspired her to become that way, added another brick to the palace she had already remade for his heart. He found it hard to let go of her and return to his meal. Knowing that they only had a short time to eat together before going back to work felt like a punishment. 'But,' He mentally admitted, 'you are able to work in the same room with her at least. That should account for something.'

There was one thing he needed to do before that and it hit him out of the blue, and his emotions lost a small bit of vigor. He had a phone call to make; a necessary one. He had forgotten that one small detail as he drowned in her love for him. But, it needed to be done and he didn't regret any of it. Telling Ellesmere that he wasn't going to take the job not only felt right to do, it merely added to the reality that he was staying here. With her at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless Chipotle plug!! Those guys have my stomach in their restaurant.


	30. friday night date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tightly hugged her to him, claiming her lips in a deep kiss that he tried to pour everything into. She went willingly, arms going over his neck. He let her go before he caused an attack and ruin the mood. He rested his forehead against hers, feeling his eyes water a little. “You...amazing woman you...” He breathed, heart ready to burst. A hand came up and cupped a cheek, thumb slowly stroking against her skin. “I'm touched. Honored. Really I am. I know how important that is to you.”

_Charles,_ _can_ _you_ _pack_ _a_ _spare_ _set_ _of_ _clothes,_ _pajamas,_ _and_ _etc,_ _and_ _bring_ _them_ _to_ _my_ _place_ _tonight?_ _I_ _don't_ _want_ _to_ _spoil_ _the_ _surprise_ _too_ _much,_ _but_ _I_ _guess_ _it's_ _kind_ _of_ _hard_ _not_ _to_ _after_ _what_ _I_ _just_ _requested._ _FYI,_ _I'm_ _going_ _to_ _take_ _the_ _bus_ _tonight_ _so_ _I_ _can_ _get_ _home_ _and_ _get_ _things_ _set_ _up._ _Please_ _don't_ _be_ _mad_ _at_ _me._ _I_ _would_ _take_ _your_ _car_ _if_ _I_ _didn't_ _want_ _to_ _try_ _and_ _surprise_ _you._

He never thought he could get a better puzzle than what she just gave him. So many details, hidden and eluded to, in that one text. He assumed things from her question, but then was left to wonder and imagine in the last half an hour before work was done. Anticipation was going to kill him he found himself tapping his finger on the armrest instead of focusing more on the emails that needed addressing.

He sat back in the chair, rotating it away from his laptop, hands cupping the back of his head. This woman. This delightful, ravishing, fantastic, gorgeous, innocent mix that had him feeling like a teenager all over again. But, a much wiser man, merely with a hidden heart on the level of one with his first love. She made him smile, and he wanted to take her in his lap and hug the daylights out of her. To kiss her neck and make her squeal with laughter. To feel her squirm in his arms when he didn't stop if only for the reason of filling his ears with that beautiful sound. Of getting her emotions soaked through his skin into every pore he could think of.

He chuckled at his own behavior. His thoughts had never been so full of emotion. Dare he go as far to say...love? With as captured as he was with her, it was easy to admit that. But, he was also still scared. Although he had come to terms with the beginning of the week and it now seemed like a lifetime ago, the remaining darkness of his old life in Wales wouldn't leave him be. The trauma of that problem was profound and it would take a lot for even Samara to help him get over it.

It was sad really. Samara had proven herself, almost unnecessarily so at times, that he was important to her and said repeatedly upon request that she loved him, but he was still timid at returning it. He almost desperately wished that he didn't choke up from his own insecurities and could say it with as much conviction as she did every time. Perhaps very soon, he would quit being a fool and get over himself. He would stop stumbling along with her, tripping on his own proverbial, emotional feet and pull her ahead instead of the other way around.

His heart fluttered, almost to the point he couldn't take anymore, and he stood with the need to do...something. Anything. Hands shoved in his pants as he stared out of the huge windows behind his desk, smile filling his face.

She was probably already on that bus and while he didn't approve, he mentally told himself that she was doing it for him. Again. She was still thinking of him even though she was putting herself out by taking public transportation. She would have taken his car and gone as he always insisted, but she was preparing something in her apartment for him...or them. That was the question and he wished the rest of the afternoon would go sooner.

He suddenly turned to his desk, snatching his phone off its resting spot and pulling up her text history.

_I_ _find_ _myself_ _very_ _eager_ _to_ _see_ _this_ _surprise_ _of_ _yours,_ _Bunty._ _Please_ _let_ _me_ _know_ _when_ _I_ _am_ _able_ _to_ _come_ _over._ _I_ _would_ _prefer_ _to_ _leave_ _now,_ _but_ _I_ _will_ _try_ _to_ _be_ _patient_ _while_ _you_ _setup_ _whatever_ _it_ _is_ _you_ _are_ _doing._

He sent it, almost giddy. He wasn't kidding. He would try to be patient, but working was going to be difficult. He saw he still had a good twenty minutes before he could clock out even a few minutes sooner than his normal. Delving into any project would keep him over time, which he didn't intend on at all, but to waste it seemed to go against his normal work ethic.

Perhaps some other socialization may suffice to take his mind off things...

He left his office in a second, not guilty at all that he was ignoring his job. He never took time out to walk around the office as he was thinking of doing now. He ambled toward Lucy's desk, seeing her tidy up the general area for the weekend and rested his arms on the high counter space.

“I don't have any messages for you Charles.” Lucy said, not looking his way more than a quick, initial glance.

“I'm not here to check on such things.” He suddenly found he was lacking a good subject to broach conversation with her and it annoyed him a little. “Has everyone gone home for the weekend?”

There was a small something in his voice that made her pause. Lucy stopped and looked at him, finding a congenial look on his face and her brows furrowed in befuddlement. She let the small pile of Monday's notes slide onto the desk it was hovering above and fully turned to face him. “I think most everyone is gone, but I haven't been keeping a tally sheet.” She grinned. “Are you looking for Sam?”

Even hearing her name from the lips of others made him smile. He looked away, shaking his head. “I am already aware that Miss Young has left early for the weekend. She sent me a text about it earlier.”

Lucy's brows went into her hairline for a second before a Cheshire grin filled her face. “Ah...she did huh? That's good to know that she's totally okay with texting you.” Her arms copied his pose on the other side of the desk, easily meeting his eyes and slightly on guard look. “Seems like the weekend turned out better than the beginning, huh?”

He always knew Lucy was a smart, very adept woman who knew more than she let on. She made no qualms about mentioning such things weeks ago before they were ever truly together. At the time, they were annoying, now...they only made him blush because they were true.

“Things between us have certainly smoothed out if that's what you're implying.” He replied wryly.

“Well that's good to know. Not like we all didn't suspect anything weeks ago, but it's good to see you two finally getting on with it and just going for it. Now I might win that office bet, although, personally, I think my timing was off.”

A brow went up. It didn't take a genius to know just what they were talking about, and he was scared to ask questions, but curiosity demanded satiation. A hand covered is eyes. “Do I even wish to know?”

Lucy laughed a little. “After that little crying spat on the floor from Mr. Young and how you helped Sam up, Umed and I started wondering about it. We chatted about it at lunch and a few others listened in. We ended up hypothesizing a few things and a bet was made as to which day you guys would finally become an item.” A finger thoughtfully curled around her chin. “I'll have to be sure to remember this to tell everyone on Monday.”

He shouldn't be surprised. They were never that secretive in their affections early on, and the last week alone was no holds barred. He didn't want to hide anything with her any longer, nor did he wish the titles of manager and assistant to hold him back. They had done nothing inappropriate on the job aside from hand holding and a few kisses, most of which were in either office.

Jacob turned the corner, Umed next to him. The pair stopped and greeted them, although Umed looked back and forth between Lucy and Charles a few times. “Is there something the matter?” He asked.

Charles sighed and opened his mouth to negate anything, but Lucy jumped in and beat him to it. “I win the bet!” She happily announced.

“That doesn't sound fair my dude.” Jacob announced, leaning against the high desk. “Do you have a date?”

“I've been sitting at this desk all week an watching those two act all lovey-dovey. It certainly wasn't like that Tuesday or Wednesday. So I'm betting Thursday is it.”

Charles's phone vibrated in his pocket and he mentally thanked whoever it was that just saved him the mortification of explaining just when his relationship with Samara took a less than sour turn.

_I'm all ready. Come over whenever!_

He smiled and put the phone back, taking a few steps away. “On that note, I will let you three discuss my private life, but without me. Have a good weekend everyone.”

He didn't wait for them to bid him goodbye as he went to collect his things. The day was close enough to being done and he was calling it now. Her text was the timer he wanted and when he closed the laptop down, he found he was close enough anyway.

He waited until he was in his car to grab his phone again.

_I will head back and collect a few things before heading over. See you soon Bunty._

He didn't waste the time waiting for any affirmation that she had seen his text. All of those seconds could be spent getting to his place and then hers much quicker. He didn't want to speed in the very expensive car he owned, but the night was finally happening. He was more excited to see exactly what she had planned, if anything at all. It was Friday night and all he could think about was that she was actually going to let him watch her play and allow him to be in the same room with her as she did one of her passions.

He was in the middle of shifting through clothes when he just realized that he had no idea what he was supposed to be bringing. His regular long-sleeve button up and pants combo could fit the pajama option, but spare set of clothes?

He reached for his phone and pulled up the text window again.

_Bunty. Would you at least give me a hint on what type of clothing I'm supposed to be bringing? Casual or business casual?_

Not even a minute later, his phone rang and he was glad he didn't have to wait.

_Casual. Bring your glasses, but don't wear them, okay?_

That still didn't help him figure out just what they were doing, but he grabbed a pair of jeans and long-sleeved shirt that would fit a number of possible situations. He snagged a few things from his bathroom and shouldered the bag. In less than thirty minutes, he was back in his car and heading to a place he knew very well.

The ride wasn't very long, but with the way his heart was beating, it felt like he was crossing the entire city. He didn't understand why he was so excited to spend the evening, and apparently the night if he was to be grabbing sleepwear, but he also did. He couldn't get enough of her and without the light to his darkness, seeing was impossible. He didn't prefer stumbling everywhere in life anymore.

He grabbed the bag the second he shut the car off and quickly scaled the stairs. He knocked on her door, taking a few deep breaths to calm his heart, although it did no good when he heard her on the other side. The door swung open and he stepped through it automatically, but she didn't immediately show herself. “Samara? What's this all ab – ow!”

“Pillow fight!”

Said pillow came down on his back again, ruffling most of the still styled head of hair and knocking him forward a step. The bag flew off his shoulder and skittered a few feet away. He whipped around, arm coming up in defense as she swung at him again. “Bunty?!”

Samara beamed, laughter falling from her like water out of a faucet. “Friday night date night!” She happily announced, swinging the pillow low at his side. “Slumber party!”

He quickly and easily wrestled the large item away from her and set it on the high counter within reach, mood adjusting and leeching everything from her when she threw her arms around him and hugged him. “What in the world has gotten into you Bunty?” He looked around, finding huge tubs of popcorn, chocolate bars, chips, and a six-pack of sodas on the nearby coffee table.

She giggled and quickly kissed his cheek. “Slumber party. While I love spending the weekend at your place, I hate putting Mrs. Whipple out by making her watch Bowser. Since I didn't know if your complex allowed pets, this was the next best option.”

“What happened to your game?”

She gave him a soft look. “I canceled that for the week. I wanted to spend that time with you so I told the guild master I had other plans.”

He was touched. Immensely. Last time he was only able to listen in. He figured that was good enough and thought she would let him see what was so special about the game by inviting him over and allow him to be in the same room with her. She went even further and put something so important aside...all for him.

He tightly hugged her to him, claiming her lips in a deep kiss that he tried to pour everything into. She went willingly, arms going over his neck. He let her go before he caused an attack and ruin the mood. He rested his forehead against hers, feeling his eyes water a little. “You...amazing woman you...” He breathed, heart ready to burst. A hand came up and cupped a cheek, thumb slowly stroking against her skin. “I'm touched. Honored. Really I am. I know how important that is to you.”

“You're more important.”

He was kissing her before he could think or she could say anything else. His hand snuck to the back of her head, lightly fisting her hair. Those words were as easily and quickly shot out with no thought given as if she were discussing how much she liked creating games. He couldn't get enough of what she inspired in him and his eyes poured out the excess. The pot had boiled over, the sheer depth of emotion she awoke in him too much for the pitiful container it rested in.

“Thank you Samara. Thank you. This is too much...”

She didn't think so, but to him it must have been super important. She suddenly realized that putting aside something she cared a lot about for the sake of him meant so much more and she mentally noted that for the future.

She wiped the tears off his face, smile not leaving her, although her eyes tried to join him. “Nonsense. You haven't even seen the smattering of movies I've got on tap tonight. I don't know what you like, so I grabbed a bunch out of my queue for you to sift through.” She looked to the living room. “Oh and all I have at my disposal is junk food for it. Nothing too fancy. Typical slumber party stuff.”

“I will admit. I don't drink a lot of soda. Like...at all.”

She blinked at him a few times. It was like he tried to just speak in some kind of Asian language. “As in...NEVER?” She managed, eyes wide.

He snorted and let her go, face slightly warm. “Is that so shocking? Some people don't prefer certain things.”

She quickly headed to the front door that was open and shut it. She snatched the bag off the floor and handed it over. “Go get changed into your jammies. It's pajama movie night theme.”

He suddenly noted that she was already dressed for the part. He took the bag with a smile, eying the outfit that left plenty to the imagination, although it still fit her in...certain spots quite nicely. “Far be it to be the odd number out.”

“My bedroom is in that little hall area there. Oh and I hid Bowser in there so he didn't go racing out cause I knew I'd leave the door open.” She explained, hand going for the remote on the table. “Just open the door and step aside if you would.”

He did as instructed, but no small bundle of fur came rocketing out. He found the little guy with what looked like some kind of small stuffed toy on her bed. Charles smiled, stopping and extending a hand to let Bowser smell as they met each other at the edge of the mattress. “Hello again. Do you remember me little guy?”

Bowser smelled for a few seconds before going to grab his princess doll and hopped off the bed. He merely exited the room with no other pause to the stranger in his presence.

Charles shook his head in amusement, not too sure what to expect, before dropping the bag on the bed and unzipping it. He grabbed the set of navy pajamas and quickly changed into them, switching out contacts for glasses. He only finished setting them on his nose when her text message suddenly made sense. He started laughing, still giving in as he rounded the corner for the main area.

She stared at him as he slowly walked to her, looking seriously entertained by something. “What? You didn't find anything weird in my room; I made sure to clean it up before you got here.”

He stopped before her and gave her a wry look. “So that was the reason for keeping my contacts in until now, hmm?”

She giggled a little, face heating a degree. “You caught me.” She took his hand, feeling his fingers close around hers as she tugged him to the couch. There were already blankets and pillows set up and she grabbed a popcorn bowl as they sat down. She handed the remote out to him, burrowing herself in the side with his arm draped over the back of the couch.

“What kind of movies do you usually enjoy Samara?” He asked, quickly scanning through a bunch which gave him a huge answer already.

“Sci-fi, fantasy, fiction, maybe some comedy, some anime... You know, computer geek and gamer stuff. What about you Charles?” She asked, hesitation sinking in a little when he didn't stop scrolling. She wondered if he liked anything like that since he didn't pause in the slightest. Did he not prefer anything she had in the 'watched' queue?

“I like all of those things well enough. Except for the anime. I don't recollect ever having watched it.” He idly commented. “I don't think I've seen many of these movies to be honest.”

She looked to him with wide eyes. “Some of these movies are almost ten years old!” She blurted out. She quickly cleared her throat and shook her head. “You know what? Never mind me. Let's pick something out that you've never seen before and keep it at that.”

He finished taking in the mass amount of types she had already seen. He picked a Lord of the Flings movie, but she suggested he start on the first one.

“I warn you,” She announced as she snuggled in and delved into the popcorn, “this movie is the director's cut and it's over three hours long. We can pause it and take bathroom breaks as necessary.”

“Is it any good?”

She grinned and snuggled against him, heart thumping a little more when his arm came down over her shoulders and his hand rested near her hip. “It spawned a huge change in the fantasy genre I think.”

The musical score was brilliant. The acting was very good, and the weapons fighting fantastic. He had an idea that there was a sleuth of information that he was missing out concerning more backstory and when he asked, she told him there was a whole bunch of prequels made to cover that.

He didn't want to get up for food or bathroom use. He quite liked the first movie, even though his joints demanded relief when the ending credits started rolling. “I don't think my stomach can take much more of the food you've got in front of us Samara.” He announced, feeling it still hungry despite snacking as best he could. He looked to her kitchen. “Would you mind if I made us something?”

She stretched again, hand coming down over her backside to pat it back into feeling. “Well, we can rummage through my fridge and see what I've got. I don't know if I need groceries or not. I haven't done so since last week.” She smiled, tugging on his top, eyes glinting. “We could always order a pizza. You can try that for the first time too...”

He rolled his eyes, snorting at her attempt at humor. “I have had pizza before.” He wryly retorted.

Her eyes lit up, smile bright. “Can we get Hawaiian then? It has Canadian bacon and pineapple on it!”

A brow went up. “Okay...I've had pizza before, but not that kind.”

She tugged on a sleeve, feeling like an excited five-year-old. “I'll get it! My treat! You have to try it! It's sweet and meaty flavor at the same time!”

She was so adorable and he nodded. “Is this to be a constant then?” He asked, arms nonchalantly crossing as she went for her phone. “Proper food at my place and junk at yours?”

“Pizza is a complete meal!” She retorted, eyes on her phone. She pulled up her normal delivery store and set about getting a medium for midnight snacks and finished the app order. Once she saw the charge to her card, she closed the phone and put it on the kitchen table. “Shall we get the sequel started while we wait?”

“A quick intermission perhaps and then we can.” He announced, heading for the open bathroom door.

She watched it click shut and clapped her hands over her cheeks. She was so happy that things had turned out splendid! She wanted to believe, to trust that he would love the idea. He seemed happy with it, even though he didn't appear to like the food choices. A finger wrapped around her chin, quiet giggle sprouting up. If he wanted to make dinner at her place because he didn't really like the food, they could do something like that together.

Her eyes suddenly lit up. 'I DO need groceries...' She mused, looking toward her fridge. She headed over to it to verify, pulling the door open and seeing things were fairly sparse. It was just her there and while what she had was enough, she wanted to have plenty for him to enjoy himself at her place. She had already been provided for so much; she wanted to return the favor.

“Shall we return to see what happens to the elves at the Deep?”

Her head whipped over to find him leaning against a counter. She shut the kitchen door and walked up to him, throwing her arms around his waist. He returned the hold easily enough, bemused brow going up. “I need food, but not today. Let's do so tomorrow! Tonight is pizza. We'll make lunch at home and do something you want to do later.”

How...quaint. His face melted as he imagined the two of them heading to whatever grocery store she used and picking out things together. To push the cart through the aisles and carry the bags up to her floor and put everything away. His face heated a little and he couldn't get the smile off his face. “Whatever you wish, Bunty.” He kissed her forehead and stepped back. “Now. The battle is calling. I must admit, I'm looking forward to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna see these two getting into a pillow fight! Charles would decimate Sam. XD


	31. a beautiful Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His arms were around her, face touching hers, ankles entwined together. There wasn't a spot his body wasn't demanding satiation in the stark need for physical touch. She instigated it in him and he couldn't get enough. He needed, had, to hold her as much as possible in order to calm the swelling of his chest that had already dangerously filled the room.

She tried to put as many blankets in front of the curtains as possible to keep the morning out. It was almost one when they fell asleep, Charles wanting to finish the rest of the trilogy, but failing as the entire movie would've put them at around an easy ten hours of watch time. They finished the second, put all of the food away, and attempted the third. They didn't even get halfway in before she could tell he wouldn't make it.

“ _Charles...are_ _you_ _okay?_ _”_

“ _Hmm?_ _Mmnnnnfff...of_ _course...Bunty..._ _”_

_She turned as best she could with her back almost on his chest and looked to his head dripping forward again. Her lips tilted. “Maybe we should go to bed?”_

“ _Perhaps...a_ _wise_ _idea..._ _”_

She ended up helping him under the covers and was the one to tuck them in this time. Usually, he was the one to do so to her and it felt nice to be able to take care of him. She wanted to do more so often and it was the last thing she could think of before she drifted off after him, snuggling a little more into his chest. She barely felt the hand that fumbled around her waist and found its resting spot before stilling.

Such a sleeping pose was probably going to become her normal. She enjoyed the closeness and the feel of his chest as her pillow. She didn't think sleeping in her bed was going to be as enjoyable after this weekend was done and she didn't know just what was going to happen every weekend. She didn't want to waste the weekends away from him, but she didn't know if it was okay to have Bowser over at his apartment. Really, he would need to come here, but she preferred her place to his. His was an amazing setup, but she felt hers was homier and more comfortable, even though it was definitely half the size.

Her arm around his torso was the last thing she knew falling asleep and the first thing she took in was the weight over hers.

She didn't know what time it was, but she didn't want to know. All she could feel was his arms wrapped around her from behind and she wanted to stay that way until her bladder was threatening to hold her sheets hostage if she didn't move. She didn't want to eat, didn't want to get up to take Bowser out, didn't want to turn and cuddle him back...even if that thought almost made her move.

His arms were around her almost zealously so and she was almost entirely pressed against his chest...as if he couldn't hold her close enough, even though he was asleep. She now knew why he had trust issues, but wondered if the reason why he pushed people away was mainly because he didn't want to let them go in the first place. That he was latched on so tightly right now because of what happened with Gwen, or he didn't have that person to do this with in the first place.

There felt like so many more questions than answers, but she almost didn't want them. She didn't need a reason for why he did things, even if it might make it easier to understand just why whenever he did those little quirks. She didn't want to upset him by asking him about his past when he was finally living in the present with her. He would discuss it if she asked, but only because SHE asked him. He would give it to no one else.

Her fingers slowly found his, pushing through their dead weight until she had separated them with hers and held onto him. His hair was tickling her a little, but she wondered if hers was doing worse. She could feel his breath touch the back of her head and she didn't know how he was asleep if it was right against his nose. He seemed almost curled around her as much as possible and she felt her heart jump up and down, squealing its happiness and hoped it didn't wake him up.

Around the weight of his body against the back of hers was another pressure near her ankles. This one she knew. It was small and warm, as it always was. She could feel the little body breathing with the bulk of his back pressing up against the top her feet. She was almost one hundred percent trapped where she was, unable to move lest she wake either of them. She couldn't get the smile off her face and thinking about how cuddled up they were against her only made it grow. 'My two silly boys...'

She heard the quiet sigh tickle the hair at her neck and she slowly tugged his arms nearer, as if they could get any closer already.

How? How was this possible? She had known him for over a year and yet in the span of a paltry month or two, they had escalated to this. Love was the strangest thing, and yet it seemed more like fate had intervened for them, for him. She stared at the light trying to invade through the darkness, eyes tearing.

How much more intense was this going to get? It didn't seem like there was a glass ceiling to all of this. She almost couldn't take it! She didn't think the concept of one word could cause her entire world to turn upside down like this. She had adjusted everything she had always known for one person and she would do ten times more than that, if only to know it made him happy and see him smile. To feel his arms around her tightly, to get that insistent kiss of joy, and the soft look in his eyes. To feel his head press against hers, to hear the content sigh at her offering to put herself out for him.

All this she would gladly love to receive, because she would give it back to him all the same for the exact same things.

He had done so much by doing so little. He had given her a chance the second his opinion seemed to change of her. He always had her best interests in heart, even when she didn't see it. She thought he had been playing her, but he had been trying to help hoist her up to see above what she couldn't reach. He had been there before her and wanted her to join him.

Her eyes wet the pillow and she tried not to ruin the moment, but she could feel her body shaking a little. No...stop. Please. Don't make things awkward. Don't wake him up. Let him sleep cuddled up as long as he wants. He deserves it. He's been through so much in life already...

She tried to inhale and exhale as quietly and slowly as possible. She didn't want her emotions to break the scene. Please... Just calm down...

He stirred a little, eyes barely managing to peek open, still too tired and needing more rest. But, something felt...off. It invaded the dark and comfortable warmth that felt like home. The intrusion wasn't wished for, but he felt like it needed addressing. He yawned and heard a halt of sudden intake of breath and his eyes peeked open. His body tuned in to hers, feeling the small shaking of her torso under him, of her fingers clenching his tighter than was necessary. He mentally shook himself, ordering himself to wake up so he could help her.

“Samara? Are you...alright?” He asked, another yawn splitting his question up.

She quickly blinked, one hand going for the tears that refused to stop. No matter how much ordering she tried to do. “Y...yes...” She mumbled.

“No.” He responded, only able to inch her closer. He nuzzled the back of her head, the smell of her shampoo up his nose. “What's troubling you Bunty?”

The damn broke. His words were a sledgehammer against what she so futilely tried to build. She pulled their hands to her face, burying her eyes in them as if to hide herself. Her body seemed to take that as initiative to shake itself apart, not being helped by the light kisses he gave to her head.

Where did she start?! How did she explain all of this? It was too strong and those three words seemed so tiny compared to it. “I...” She breathed, unable to manage more.

He let go and nudged a shoulder his way, getting her immediate movement to face him. She buried her face in his pajamas, arms tightly going around his waist. She gripped the back of his top, smelling his natural scent and using it to calm herself down.

Did she want to say it? It sounded so trivial now! She almost couldn't force the words out, everything was so much that it almost blocked her mouth and weighed her tongue down.

His hand slowly rubbed her back, waiting for her to say something. He knew that she always felt everything so strongly and many times she would open up if he only gave her that moment to collect herself and find the right words. He didn't want to rush her with something like this. She must have been going over it for a while; he doubted she would've woken up like this.

“I...” She snorted quietly. “I love you seems to...stupid. Pointless. Trivial. Not enough.” She dug her head further into his chest. “Is it possible for one human being to -” Her hands squeezed his shirt, “to feel this much? I...I can't take it. I feel like I'm going to...scream.” Her brow furrowed, shaky breathing returning. “It doesn't make sense. I can't explain myself properly. I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. The words all seem wrong.”

He told himself to loosen his grip lest he hurt her. The muscles in his arms were spurred on by her words to hold her as close as possible, but he needed to let her find air.

“Yes.” He breathed, mouth tight against her head. His arms were around her, face touching hers, ankles entwined together. There wasn't a spot his body wasn't demanding satiation in the stark need for physical touch. She instigated it in him and he couldn't get enough. He needed, had, to hold her as much as possible in order to calm the swelling of his chest that had already dangerously filled the room. “I do understand.” His eyes peeked open, finding the dawn lighten the blackness to dusk around them. “I know what you mean perfectly. I feel the same way right now Samara. You make me feel like that right now. Every moment of every day since you have bequeathed those three words to me, this emotion has not left me.”

“I'm going to die.” She blurted out, happy and overwhelmed at the same time. “I can't take this. I'm going to die in your arms because I can't take how much I love you.”

He started laughing and it felt good. God, how it felt amazing to laugh and let go and wake up like this with the woman of his dreams in his arms spouting poetry and comedy about her feelings in the span of a few breaths. Even when time seemed to stop, he couldn't find control to quit. He could feel his good mood leech into her as she started giggling quietly. Their emotions infected each other and both stomachs were aching by the time they attempted to catch their breath.

She had needed to use her inhaler many times this week during bouts of sadness and pleasure. Sheer, unadulterated happiness had yet to be one of them, but it felt so good. It wiped the slate clean and made the morning even better somehow. She flopped on her back, face splitting in two, still giggling as he leaned over and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Good morning Bunty. I hope you slept well enough.”

There was an interruption to the room, but shifting it only slightly, as a stump of a tail tried to wag Bowser off his standing perch in between them. She smiled and reached a hand out to pet his back, watching him pant in excitement to whatever he felt he needed to join. “Good morning Bowser. Do you need to go out?”

A bark met her question and he promptly sat, looking over as Charles's hand patted his head.

“Aren't you a happy little one this morning? Did you come to join in the fun?”

She rolled to face the pair, not wanting to leave the cocoon she had woven with Charles. The day was turning out right in every aspect. Charles was here, he seemed entirely unguarded from however he was at work, the bed was warm and comfy, her fingers kept bumping Charles's as they petted Bowser's head together, and despite feeling it was earlier than she bet it was, she was fairly well-rested.

“I suppose we shouldn't keep making this poor guy wait any longer than he already has.” Charles mused, rolling over and throwing his legs off the side of his bed.

'My side of the bed, huh?' He mused with a touched smile, quietly snorting as the butterflies that notion gave. He idly stared at his feet for a breath before mentally shaking himself and standing for a long awaited stretch.

She copied him, yawning and shaking her head in attempt to wake up. She went for her glasses and watched Bowser scamper out of the room, even though she was nowhere near ready.

An idea hit and she whirled Charles's way when she saw him out of the corner of her eye.

“Light bulb!” She gaily announced, beaming. She could've skipped to her closet if it were far enough and opened the door, free hand waving inside. “If you would be so kind Mr. Jones, to pick me an appropriate outfit for Bowser's walk and perhaps breakfast at The Daily Grind...”

He grinned at the pompous, fake English accent she adopted, stomach clenching as he tried not to laugh. A brow went up as he shook his head with a sigh, cheeks hurting. “Dear Miss Young,” He replied, pouring on the Welsh accent, “I would be quite enticed to ruffle through your wardrobe at my leisure if only you stop talking that way.”

She burst out laughing, arms going around her stomach. She leaned against the wall to hold herself up, feeling tears come to her eyes. Her cheeks hurt from the strength of her smile and she vaguely heard chuckling over the volume of her own laughter.

She somehow managed to get herself under control, wiping her face dry and leaning her head against the wall. “Oh man...I haven't laughed that hard in a long time...” She managed, seeing him directly in front of her.

His arms lightly rubbed against hers, eyes kind. “I agree. It has...been some time.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead, adjusting his trajectory when her chin angled up. “If you'll permit me to get changed and then I will locate something for you as well.”

She watched him head around the wall to snag his bag out of the living room that was left there last night. She passed into the bathroom for her toothbrush, giving him the freedom to change wherever he wished and remained inside with the doorway partially blocking him. It wasn't that she needed to give him privacy after the many times of feeling and seeing him naked, but it was a basic decency she was affording him. She knew he would do the same with her and it felt right to do so.

Just as she was opening the cabinet to grab her daily medication, there was a blur out of the corner of her eye. She pulled the door open to find Charles in plain jeans and long-sleeve shirt. Nothing fancy, but the jeans were skinny jeans again, and the top he had on wasn't very baggy to leave much to the imagination. She looked took in his outline, eyes roaming from top to bottom as she watched him pause in front of the open closet door, hand thoughtfully stroking his chin. He had glasses on and his hair was loose in front of his face.

She could've dragged him to bed right then and there.

'Get a hold of yourself! Breakfast!' Her lips pressed together, quickly changing to biting her lip as her fingers itched to run her hands up the inside of his shirt and feel hard muscle. 'Oh geez, this is going to rule my life.' Brown eyes snuck a look, finding his hands had extended for the hangers. 'Not that it's a bad thing though.' She turned away from the crack in the door and let him do whatever he was serious about over there.

He stared into her closet, hands slowly pushing hangers around and seeing absolutely nothing that looked appealing. Most of the items were clipped on because they were so large they would’ve fallen off their resting spots. He must have rummaged from the entire left side all the way to the right until something caught his eye. He pulled it out, eyes thoughtfully squinting as he rotated the hanger.

There was nothing major about it, aside from the fact that it was purple, which seemed to be a common color she wore...whether because she liked it or it was purchased for her. He highly doubted, in the beginning, that she would’ve ever chosen something like this. There was something of noticeable V-cut which showed off a chunk of collarbone. It was short-sleeved and even though her arms weren’t a problem, he still bet she wouldn’t have been okay with it. The length he surmised to be to the knees; another addition to the 'no way' column.

He wondered who had purchased this for her and considered either a friend or perhaps her mother. Samuel and Jay would rather see their precious gem in a burlap sack over this any day of the week. He mentally thanked Samantha as he closed the doors and looked for a place to hang the dress.

He saw motion and turned to it, finding a hand out, palm up.

“Is that what I’m wearing today?” She asked, turning the garment to the front to check it out. Her brow furrowed, head tilting. “I’ve never seen this before in my life. How many things did she buy me? Has she been sneaking clothes into my room when I’m not home? Naw, she has been gone for so long and there’s no way dad would ever agree to put it here…”

He listened as she mumbled to herself, eyes fixated on the object in question. He rested his palm on her fingers and pushed the dress down enough to see her face. “Does this suffice for today? Not too much, not too little. The weather will be mild again and I highly doubt it's going to rain. I tried to keep your comfort in mind.”

Physical and emotional. She gave him a sweet smile and leaned up to kiss him. He easily met her lips, trying to press further with his own smile making that hard.

She suddenly pulled away when something tickled her chin. She blinked and her free hand floated up. She touched his skin, even her glasses not helping much to see the barest traces of stubble on his face. A brow rose, lips curling.

“Would you like me to shave, Bunty?” He asked, fingers trapping hers against his cheek.

“No.” She abruptly blurted out, face warming a little. She quietly cleared her throat, gravitating closer. “I...like it. You never look like this. All..tousled. It's different, but in a...very good way.”

He noticed the glint in her eyes, the way she bit her lip, the way her eyes danced over his features. His smile turned roguish, free hand coming up and trapping her chin with his hand. “If you like, I will resist shaving on the weekends for you.”

She didn’t know when her lips locked on his, when she dropped the dress to wrap her arms around him, or when his went around her waist to hoist her up. She could feel the telltale signs of what she was doing to him nudge a leg and while she wouldn’t mind starting the day like that and putting breakfast off just a little longer, Bowser wasn’t going to wait.

She heaved a sigh when she pulled away, being let go to the floor as well. “We need to take care of Bowser…” She mumbled, looking away in a pout.

He smirked and released her. “If I didn’t know any better Bunty, I’d say you wished me to continue.”

She glared, heart already going fast and inner thighs needy. “Not one word Mr. Jones. Not...one word…”

His lips pressed together to quell his smile, but it did no good. They stood there for a second, him finding humor in her upturned behavior and her upset for wanting him when she couldn’t have him.

Her hand latched out and lightly pinched his stomach, getting a yelp, before she squatted to pick the dress up and brushed it straight with her hand.

She stared at him, finding him more than amused at her situation and her eyes narrowed, evil grin slowly turning her mood almost vicious. She dropped the dress on to the floor and went for the buttons on her pajamas, watching his eyes drop as she opened one and slowly went for another. The humor on his face lessened a little, the fire returning to his eyes when she took a step forward. "One of these days Mr. Jones…" Step. "You'll learn that you can only tease me so much."

She rounded him, purposely brushing her breasts against his arm. The top sailed through the air for a second before landing on the edge of her bed. She faced him, arms crossed under her chest to puff them up.

She stood in front of him, watching his reaction and feeling quite proud at seeing the twitches in his arms as they attempted to reach for her. She watched his face in vain as it tried to remain passive, his eyes on hers. The grin wouldn't go any further and a giggle bubbled up.

His eyes narrowed, mind returning to itself as her laughter brought up one stark truth: she had finally managed to one-up him. The excited feeling of the way she was toying with him, the low urge in his body, the way he felt his tongue lick his lips…

She held a finger out when he took a long step for her, halting his trek. "Ah ah, Mr. Jones...we should go take Bowser out before he pees on my carpet."

She took in the multiple glints in his eyes. The frustration. The lust. The amusement. She could tell from the smile alone that he was enjoying the overall torment because it was coming from her.

Far be it to deny him some more…

Both hands looped under her pants and bent down to shuck them off.

She was standing in front of him with only her underwear and that grin. Instinct took over as his brain shut off and his lips found hers before he could even think how he covered the distance that quickly. His hands were around her back, but she yelped at how cold they were. He adjusted the situation by dropping her onto the mattress right behind her, nudging her legs apart as he hovered dangerously close to her torso, hands propping him up near her head.

She cried out into his mouth, hands gripping his top for dear life as he rocked against her almost lazily so. She pulled on him, all previous games flying out the window as he ignited her into a bonfire with just a few sparks to dry kindling. A leg came up, foot on the edge of the mattress, the other one intent on also making the trek to his waist when a bark sounded in the quiet and she jerked back with a shriek.

Two pairs of wide eyes looked to the doorway to find Bowser loudly panting away. He barked again when they paid him attention and stood on all fours, stump of a tail wagging happily behind him.

They met each other's eyes almost instantly, instinctively. She felt her face was the temperature of the sun, and his was a little pink as well. Once the adrenaline calmed down, the smiles popped up. Slow at first, a realization that they had gone from innocent to dangerous in the span of a few moments, conveniently forgetting the initial task of the morning. Teeth saw the light of day when the smile turned to a full-blown grin, the hilarity of how they couldn't keep apart from each other shadowed by the need to touch each other.

The giggles started before the chuckling. Embarrassment had no place in that moment, only the silliness of how she abandoned the need to tease him in return for her lust for him. How she cast away his earlier wish to put his hands on her in quick desperation to let him. A hand covered her mouth as the volume grew, his laughter also joining her noise level.

Once they finally gained control over themselves, he leaned down to claim her lips in a much more tender notion, her arms going around his neck in thanks for taking control of the situation for her. When she released him, he righted and extended a hand to help her up. She took it, giving him a quick squeeze, before rounding him to get the dress on, ending its repeated resting spot on the carpet.

The sun was out, the day cloudless, the morning absolutely perfect. He quietly inhaled, his fingers entwined with hers, her free hand holding Bowser's leash despite his offer. They ambled along her usual path, stopping to let Bowser smell almost every blade of grass before doing his business. When he finally did, she passed the leash to Charles, not letting him pick up after Bowser's mess. She refused when he mentioned doing so, openly bemused that he offered when she always had. She found a nearby trash can, her faithful hound still in his care, and deposited the issue inside.

When she turned to walk back to them, she took in the wind gently tousling his hair, Bowser scampering around his legs and Charles trying to keep the leash unwound. She giggled a little at how utterly adorable he was, glad they got along so well. It was nice that it didn't end up like it did with Marshall, whom Bowser still didn't like. She was happy that Charles was a little more laid back in his method, as she and Bowser usually lived alone and were hardly approached by strangers.

She was finally caught staring, probably in his wonder at what was taking her so long, and clasped both hands behind her back as she neared them. She smiled sweetly and craned her chin up, his quickly coming down to her pursed lips.

“And what is that for, may I ask? Not that I'm complaining, mind you.”

She looked to Bowser for a second before her arms went around his torso. “You are so adorable, do you know that?” She asked, seeing his face turn away modestly. Her chin rested on his chest, nuzzling it a little. “You two are just so cute together. I'm glad you get along so well. Others haven't been so fortunate. He may be small...but I suppose Bowser is still my guard dog.”

He chuckled, free hand coming up to boop her nose lightly. “Does that mean I've captured the mighty dragon and won the heart of the princess?”

She squeezed his waist for a second before taking the leash back and heading in the direction of The Daily Grind. “Well...I suppose you already did in my game.” Her smile lost a little of its flare as she remembered their conversation over ice cream. What felt like a lifetime ago already. “I don't suppose you'll play this game the same way as you did that one though, right?”

Where he denied the princess and left to wander. When the princess killed herself to be with the man she was in love with, never to leave his side.

He paused and brought their hands to his mouth, muted eyes on hers. “I will consider that play-through a trial game to the real thing.” His lips twitched. “This hero could never leave such a pure princess who has shown such devotion and love.”

She grinned, yelping in surprise when Bowser suddenly yanked the leash ahead at whatever he found needed chasing. She stumbled forward a step, easily caught by him, and took that time to continue forward.

The mood stayed with them all the way to the fairly short walk. She walked past Charles's holding the door open and waved Dee and Link a good morning. Samara picked Bowser up and let Dee scratch him behind the ears a few times, her eyes on the updated coffee list.

“It's good to see you again Charles.” Dee pleasantly announced. Brown eyes shifted between the easygoing atmosphere surrounding their bubble. “I see things have improved since last you were here.”

Samara only smiled and managed a nod, ordering the coffee of choice and heading to the dessert section, picking two items as last time, but something new to try. Charles copied her motions, selecting two new pastries as well since there were at least a dozen to choose from.

“How are you holding up these days Sam?” Link asked, handing the coffee over. He gave a friendly smile, eyes momentarily darting to Charles.

“Great!” She beamed, slipping her hand through Bowser's leash so that hand could hold her coffee. “Couldn't be better.” She watched Charles take the bag of pastries and his coffee as an idea struck. “Actually could you get us a cup holder to take upstairs? I really think we need one.”

Dee took the two coffees and did as asked, Samara taking it a few seconds later. The two baristas watched her take the handle with the hand with the leash, her free one extending Charles's way. Dee's brows shot into her hairline as the pair bid them a farewell for the top floor, Samara going on about how it would be a good idea to sit up there so she could let Bowser run around without worry of him knocking something over or falling off.

“Well now...while I can surmise that something good must be happening between those two, I think Sam needs some explaining.” Dee mumbled, watching the pair disappear upstairs. “Either way, I'm glad she's so happy with him. She seems like a brand new person.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dress in purple: https://www.vova.com/Sexy-Slim-Fit-Sexy-Elegant-Women-Dress-Plus-Size-Solid-Color-Fit-And-GSN1595580667949045417216138-g17699737-m19166369
> 
> Charles with facial hair. I. Must. Have. This! O.o


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I'd say we're done with the majority of the work. It's on a low boil, so we need to give it a good twenty minutes. In the meantime...” His arms reached out and tugged her to him, leaning back just a little to allow her to physically lean against him. His arms wrapped around her back, hers around his waist. He rested his chin on her head with a content sigh, the quiet sound of bubbling the only thing in the silence. The poke of her glasses against his chest the only sharp, noticeable thing outside the warmth of her body.

A grocery store wasn't that big of a deal where businesses were concerned. You went in, got your stuff, paid for it, and went home. There wasn't anything necessarily fun nor adventurous about it. Usually, Samara and Charles would just go in, list or no list depending on the person and time, and wind through the aisles for the necessary things, then head home. There was never a time when hilarity, games, nor laughter was to be found.

Until now.

“I do believe I can help you with that if you wish Bunty. Just say the word.”

“I...ung...got it!” She retorted, arm straining to the top shelf, fingers wiggling at the edge of the box as if it would help bring it closer. Teeth clenched tightly together, she attempted to ignore his presence, the heat of his torso nearly touching her back, the breath that tickled her hair as he towered over her, hands behind him. She gave a frustrated noise, the tips of her toes still not enough to hoist her up to grab the top of the box vegetable broth Charles said they needed for a meal. All of the containers were shoved too close together to be able to grab the side and knocking it around wouldn't necessarily help her get it either. “Why do they...rrrgghhh...have to put shelving...so high?!” She mumbled through clenched teeth.

He chuckled, eyes drifting up to an item he could've gotten for her had her stubborn pride not gotten in the way.

Of course, teasing her that she was too short to get it didn't help either...

“Would you like me to get that?” He offered again, Cheshire cat grin on his face.

She wanted to take her free arm and swing her elbow into his stomach. The pompous ass! He could've been the gentleman he always proclaimed himself to be, but every arch of his back, tone of voice, overly done nearness, and refusal to actually do the job without asking spoke of how much he was teasing her by not really doing anything.

By rights she should've just acquiesced to his questions and accepted his offer of aide. But so far, he helped her out of the car despite being fully capable of doing so this time; refused to let her take charge of the cart; was putting in foods he wanted to use for the meal they discussed over coffee; and she just knew he was going to pay for everything he was putting in HER fridge. It was adorable and touching, but she needed to take charge of her life sometime!

Her fingers caused the box to wobble and inevitably fall back, causing the container to angle back just so which made it nigh impossible to grab now. She bumped into him, feeling his arm steady them before they also fell back, and sighed. “Would you please pick that up for me?” She groused, easily freeing herself from his hold.

“Of course dear Bunty. I'd be delighted.” He mused, voice dripping a little more than normal.

She crossed her arms as she watched him take care of her yet again. She knew she should feel flattered that he wanted to do as much for her as possible as a way of repaying all that she'd given him...whatever that was. She knew that her being with him, being serious in her intentions, and the solidarity of their time together was what he craved the most, but it seemed so normal and minute to her. She gave it easily because she wanted to be with him, but in return, his gestures and need to do every task imaginable were her rewards.

“Shall we continue on Bunty?” He asked, hands on the plastic handle of the grocery cart.

She sighed, smile popping up at how cute he was with the hair trying to cover one eye behind his glasses. The peach fuzz that had only tried to make itself more pronounced as the morning went on. How domestic he seemed. So unlike the personae he gave off at the office. It was almost like his doppelganger that she was spending the weekend with, but this was perhaps the real him. The child inside that he was too scared or hesitant to show anyone. She knew that this extended time was a privilege only she was afforded. All because she loved him.

She passed through the aisles as close to his side as possible. The cart was fairly large, a staple in grocery stores nowadays, as were the aisles, but occasionally she needed to skirt behind him to let someone else pass. They filled the bottom of the metal square design, fruits and vegetables the major contributors to blocking out the wheels below.

She didn't think she'd be able to create enough meals with all of this before it went bad, but if they cooked at the apartment for both lunch and dinner for the entire weekend, also packing lunch for Monday and maybe Tuesday, it might suffice. Such thoughts were adorable and made her smile.

She let him do as he pleased, knowing that he wanted to go all out. His desire to do this for her was his way with words and thus she followed him without questioning the things he was putting inside the cart. They must have spent a good hour in the store going down all of the aisles. He was very calculating and systematic in his approach to shopping and she teased him that he must be the type to use a list every time he entered the double doors. He mused that she was correct, and it was kind of annoying to try and figure out everything they needed on the spur of the moment. His naturally shrewd intellect made shopping more of a mission than a stroll.

They waited in line behind another person who was still unloading their items onto the belt. She stood next to him, fingers somehow curled in between his on the handlebar. Their arms brushed together, enjoying the normal ambiance in silence, until he broke the silence with something that came out before he could think.

“That's an odd thing to sell at the checkout stands...”

She looked up at him, brow up in confusion, to find his gaze down near their knees, at a comic book nestled in with coloring books and magazines.

It was a space meant for children who hoped their permissive parents would buy just one more thing for them. The item was marketed for kids, but she knew of the issue. As she knew of the character on the cover as well.

She smiled and shifted forward as their turn finally came. “I see nothing wrong with it. That's a good edition.”

His gaze darted her way, though hers was busy focusing on the task at hand. “You read comic books Samara?”

The second the words left his lips, he shook his head. Video games, fantasy, fairy tales. Comic books seemed like another aspect of the genre she was interested in. When he thought of her as a child, or possibly a few weeks ago even, scrunched up in some comfy sitting spot, legs up, and flipping through the pages with her eyes darting around the words and pictures, he wasn't surprised at all.

She looked at him with a raised brow. “Of course I do. Doesn't everyone at some point in their lives?” She lightly poked an arm. “Even you had to have read something Charles!”

He grinned, but shook his head. “Where I was at Samara, I didn't have consistent, proper access to comic books.”

“Oh? Where were you at?”

“A farm.”

She openly gawked at him, eyes eventually running over him from top to bottom with this new information. Everything she knew about him, the years of working together, the business etiquette that seemed second nature to him, the somewhat stoic personality. “What?!” She squeaked, eyes ready to pop out of her head. “You lived on a farm?!”

He smiled and stepped in when the conveyer belt was empty and their cart was yet not. “Is that so shocking?”

She watched him work, arms dead at her sides. So many things were scrambling to be first in her head that she needed answers for. She couldn't think of what to ask first. She was dumbstruck until he was handing over bags of food for her to carry along with him. She took one per hand, seeing him do the same with the heavier ones, and scurried after to catch up with him.

“A farm?!” She squeaked again, hearing him chuckle as they neared his car. “And you drive this?!”

He looked at her with a raised brow, face one of total bemusement. “My choice of vehicle shouldn't dictate my living conditions past nor present, Samara. I had the money and it's a good brand.”

“And yet you never made up for lost time by doing things from your childhood?” She queried, handing over the grocery bags for him to put into the trunk.

He shut the lid with a thunk and put a hand on her shoulder. “Unfortunately Bunty, not all of us were so lucky to be allowed to be children in our due time.”

The slightly subdued tone that spoke of things she knew he needed a hug for. The sad look in his eyes that overrode his smile. The soft way his fingers rested on her dress, a slight clench over her collarbone. Her heart went out to him and she was embracing him before she could think. She stood there by herself for a moment before the hug was returned, his chin on top of her head.

She wanted to take him to a comic book shop right this very instant and buy him a dozen comics of different kinds, or the beginning of any series he wanted, to let him relive the feeling of being a child for even one day. She wanted to blow as much money as he would let her and nerd out on all of the superheros and villains with him.

Then she realized that she didn't need to take him to a shop when she practically had one in her closets at home.

A plan started forming in her head. She knew they had to make lunch, which she didn't know how long was going to take, but after that it was game on. There was no way she was going to let this opportunity to bring him into her world a little more and give him a sliver of a past he never got. The strength of the mental conviction concerning it had her in such a resolved state of mind that she didn't make much conversation the entire ride back.

She let him take all of the bags per his insistence, allowing her to get her keys and open the door for him for once. She watched him set everything on the counter and busy himself with unpacking everything before taking that second to slip off to her room unnoticed. She headed around the bed for the tall armoire in the corner by the window and threw it open, going for the top stack she had nicely labeled. She heaved it onto the bed and grabbed two more, looking at the titles thoughtfully. “I wonder if he's more into Dr. Strange or Superman.” She gave a thoughtful hum, before turning for the closet. “I bet he'd be into Shazaam or Captain America...”

“Bunty?”

She jumped and grabbed the closest box. It was heavy and by the time she got to the counter's edge by the front door, she was huffing a little.

He noticed and looked to the box with a raised brow. “Samara, I can help you with whatever heavy items you need lifting. Please don't trouble yourself.”

She rested her arms on the lid, attempting to get her breathing under control without using her inhaler. It didn't work and she grabbed the spare off the kitchen counter to take a puff. She set it down and plopped a hand on the top of the box. “You're going through these after lunch and I won't take no for an answer.” She sternly insisted.

He looked to the side, finding a typed list of names he didn't recognize neatly typed up and alphabetized. Curiosity burning, he pulled the lid off and stared inside at dozens of plastic wrapped comic books much like the same as what they found at the store. He looked at her as he slid the item back where he found it. “Am I supposed to read all of them?” He mused.

“We'll go over as many as we have time for.” She responded, putting the lid back.

“We, huh? Are you intending on taking part in this schooling?”

She grinned and leaned on the box again. “I don't mind rehashing the old days. It's why I keep them around.” Fingers tapped the cardboard. “I don't remember the last time I was able to spend an evening reading a series. I say we do it together. Who knows? Maybe you might find someone you like.”

“If I have read anything as a child, it wouldn't have been much, nor would I have been able to keep it as nice as you do these.”

“Well now is a great time to catch up.”

He shrugged, smiling at her idea. “Is this an attempt to assuage me from the bit about the farm, Bunty?”

She sheepishly grinned. “Maybe...”

He patted her hand before turning back to everything loitering on the counter. “I will accept once our plates have been cleaned and food eaten. At this moment, I am rather famished and in need of proper sustenance.”

She pouted at the teasing glint in his eye, in the reference that all she provided last night wasn't good nourishment. “Pizza is proper food!” She hotly countered, wanting to stomp her foot. “You had, like, four pieces too.”

He chuckled and started rummaging for cutting board and other supplies. “Yes because popcorn and soda is not enough to keep someone of my height and weight full for more than twenty minutes.”

She jumped in to help when he grabbed a pan off the counter and pulled open the drawer with the cutting board in it. “What are you hunting for? I can point you in the direction of everything.”

It was easy to find a chunk of the initials. Her silverware, knives, pans, and spices were in eyesight, and she provided the few extra items he needed.

“Just what are we making here?” She asked, eying all of the ingredients. She picked up what looked like a white potato and sniffed it. “And just what is this?”

He looked over from the potatoes he was washing. “A swede. Rutabaga is more a term I assume you're with.”

She turned it, taking note of the colors. “I don't know if I've ever eaten one before now.” She put it down and grabbed a fairly large...stem of something white and green and held it up as well. “This one?”

“A leek.” He announced, hand out for it. “It also must be washed.” He took it when she handed it over and scrubbed as far in the top part of the leaves to get all of the dirt out that he could. He also washed the cabbage, carrots, and rutabaga. He left them in her sink to drip, flicking water off his hands just a little. He looked over at suddenly finding a towel presented to him.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” She asked, eyes pleading to be of service.

He thoughtfully looked around the fairly small space. They had yet to cook together, but had a feeling they would do okay if she was given the directions on what to do and when. His arms crossed as he leaned against the counter, mind whirling at all the things which needed getting started. “There is meat to cook, bread to put in the oven to crisp, all of the vegetables must be diced to bite size before they're added to the meat. The bread won't take more than a moment to prep. The meat will take the longest and the vegetables can be done while it cooks.” He looked at her. “Are you up to cutting all of the vegetables?”

“Bite-sized?” She repeated, going for one of the larger knives that would handle the tubers. “Got it.”

He could tell by the way she started in that she had cooking experience and he smiled. He fished out a separate cutting board for the lamb and put a few large bowls near her for the final product to save her space which she would need for the cabbage. He let the task of cutting up carrots, rutabaga, cabbage, potatoes, leek, and onions fall to her and set to work on the meat. He found cooking oil in a cupboard next to the stove and turned the burner on low to get it started heating. He left it to do its job and with a serrated knife, diced up the lamb as best as possible and dumped it all in the pan. He turned and snagged a ladle out of the roundabout to stir everything as the oil was doing its job rather nicely. The small size helped the lamb to cook quicker and he looked over a shoulder, seeing she was scooping up the last of the onions into a bowl. “Bunty, would you bring me that beef stock on the counter please?”

She took a few seconds to wash the onion juice off her hands and threw the towel over a shoulder before doing so. She stopped to deliver a quick peck on the cheek before looking at what he was doing. She watched him dump the whole thing in and stepped back when the bubbles splattered a little.

He turned and kissed her forehead in return before he eyed her work. “Shall we start adding to the soup?”

“So,” She drawled, heading to her workspace with him, “just what is it we're making? A veggie soup?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He agreed, picking up two bowls with her. “The name of this is called Cawl. It's something of a staple to the Welsh for a few hundred years. I used to eat it on the farm a lot and was taught how to make it at a young age. A lot are staple items that can be harvested in bulk and stored for a while.” He grabbed the final two bowls before she could and set them around the pot. He dumped all of the vegetables inside in no particular order.

The sudden, domestic ambiance hit her and she wrapped her arms around his stomach, trying to keep her head away from his arm as best as possible while he worked. “I should've got you an apron that says 'kiss the cook'.” She cracked with a grin. She listened to him snort in amusement, eyes on his work. She watched his arm reach out for her spice rack, taking the salt and pepper out of it. He took the dried parsley out as well and added everything to the mix.

He nodded in satisfaction, leaving the spices where they were since he'd have to disengage her hold in order to do so and not wanting to. He tapped the ladle on the pot a few times to dislodge the stock off as much as possible before setting it on a holder on the stove. He looked down and slowly rotated to lean against the counter away from the stove. “I'd say we're done with the majority of the work. It's on a low boil, so we need to give it a good twenty minutes. In the meantime...” His arms reached out and tugged her to him, leaning back just a little to allow her to physically lean against him. His arms wrapped around her back, hers around his waist. He rested his chin on her head with a content sigh, the quiet sound of bubbling the only thing in the silence. The poke of her glasses against his chest the only sharp, noticeable thing outside the warmth of her body.

She could hear the slow thump of his heartbeat, head rising with the slow intake of air. Time froze despite Bowser wandering around their feet to see what smelt so good. She paid his winding around their ankles no mind, focusing entirely on the muscle under her face, around her torso, the warmth he gave her. She honestly didn't want to move, didn't want him to shift to check on the soup. To get the bread in the oven which hadn't been done yet. She wanted him to forget that little detail for as long as possible and stay with her like this.

His hands eventually shifted. It was slow, like they were hesitant to break the bubble around them by creating a new atmosphere to live in. One similar to what they had dove into, but perhaps a tad different. He removed his head from her hair, putting his lips there and dotting the top of her head with kisses.

She smiled and pulled back enough to be able to let her lips claim what was rightfully theirs. She met his lips softly, briefly. She gave him a few in return to the many he had just given her, nose coming up to rub against his.

“Your nose is cold, Bunty.” He murmured, arms going around her as if a blanket to warm her. “Are you warm enough?”

She kept slowly rubbing their noses together, happy down to her toes. Nothing could ruin this moment, not even if the pan itself boiled over. But she didn't want him to miss anything that she bet he was doing for her as well as him. “I'm fine. But, you did need to get that bread heated. That'll warm it up in here a bit.”

He pouted a degree before releasing her and doing as she mentioned. It didn't take any time at all and then he gave a quick peek at the soup, finding the carrots still needed more time. He looked to the box on the table near their eating space and put it over on the coffee table for now. He headed into the small kitchen area and brushed his hand over her shoulder as he passed for cupboards. “Where are your dishes stored, Samara?”

She hopped to and opened a different door, pulling out the necessary items. She passed them to him, along with a few plates. He plucked spoons and knives off of the wrack near the cutting knives and the eating area was quickly set.

He picked at a potato, finding it ready to go and turned off the oven. “Would you pass me the bowls Samara?” He asked, hunting in the smaller drawers for hot pads. He turned and grasped a ladle, taking the outstretched item and filling it. He brought it back to the table without allowing her the possibility of burning herself on it, then poured himself a helping as well. He checked on the bread when the smell hit his nose and found a few minutes left on the timer. He found her knife set had a bread knife and put it on another cutting board. With all the main things done and nothing to do but wait, he grabbed a few things and started washing up.

She hopped to and quickly put her hands over his under the spray. “Oh no you don't mister! You might have gotten away with me not helping at your place, but I'll be darned if I let you do the same thing!”

“I don't mind Samara.” He countered. “I am staying in your place after all.”

“Yea...making me lunch and dinner, and keeping me and Bowser company all weekend.” A finger jabbed the air at the exit to the rest of the apartment. “Out of the way now, you silly man you.”

He chuckled, but gave in. He grabbed the towel off the counter top it was tossed to earlier and took a few minutes scratching Bowser's ears as she washed the prep materials. There wasn't much and it didn't even get that dirty. She was joining him within minutes, the ding of the timer calling him away for the last time.

The bread smelled amazing. He cut half of the loaf into thick slices and put it on a large plate sitting in between the bowls. He rummaged through her fridge, finding the butter tray in a small compartment in the door and found a knife for it, completing the whole picture. His eyes roamed the eating area, grabbing the salt and pepper shakers for a little extra should they need it, then found everything they required set up and good to go. “I believe we're ok to eat now Samara.”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him when he was close enough, not letting him get to his chair. “You're too kind Mr. Jones.” She kidded, dotting his lips with one second kisses when he reached down for her mouth. His smile broke the ability to do so, his mouth returning to her forehead to repeat her actions. “You'll have to let me return the favor sometime soon.”

He released her with a chuckle and rounded the counter for a bar stool. “Perhaps I'll humor you entirely with your comic book collection and we can spend the hours before dinner reading about them. You'll need to pick out something fitting for me as it's been quite some since I've ever turned the pages of superheros.”

“I thought you never ever read comics?” She asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

He smiled. “I may have had a few instances in my lifetime, but time on the farm is rather hectic and when it was my mother, myself, and my grandparents taking care of everything, I was utilized as extra labor where possible. The winter months saw more downtime and those few months were when I was able to glimpse a few editions. School classmates made it easier to discuss these things, but it's difficult to act one's age when you're an only child with only older generations around you.”

She gave him a sad look, continuing it long after he waved her concern off. “Perhaps you may introduce some to me to some while we eat so that I may make up my mind.” Blue eyes strayed to the box nearby. “I take it that's just one box you brought out?”

She instantly went into the two universes that all of the characters resided in. She detailed some of the male and female characters, both good and evil, with mixtures in between. She kept blending people, never taking long enough to stop on one person before the powers of one would lead her into another. She hardly stopped to eat, only pausing long enough to take a bite of bread when she found it was going cold, as was her soup.

He listened with an avid ear, getting up to pour them a second helping once her first was finally empty. He let her continue on with a gentle, verbal prod, and she was off as she waited for the broth to stop steaming, bread dipping in it. He copied her and together, they decimated almost the entire loaf and three servings in the course of two hours.

“Shall we leave the soup to cool down here and perhaps come back to it later?” He asked, rummaging for a container to put the bread in.

She looked over at the mass amount they had yet to eat. “If I'm even hungry by then, sure. I don't feel like getting out that much Tupperware, but it's probably too hot to stick in the fridge like that.”

“Then shall we go get some more boxes out? We can always put it all away later.”

She beamed and made a beeline for the storage closet on the far end of the bedroom wall. She directed the three other boxes he wouldn't let her touch and scattered them around the living room for easy reach. She pulled the tops off and put them on her desk for later, then started shifting through the best starter edition. It was hard and she ended up with half a dozen comics of four different series.

“These should be something of a good start.” She announced, plopping the stack on the couch next to him. “It's a drop in the bucket and I'm missing about three hundred comics that are at home, but this will have to do for now.”

“I sincerely hope you're not expecting me to be able to catch up to where you're at in all of these.” He asked, carefully peeling the tape off the plastic flap holding the comic in its resting spot.

She pulled out a small stack of her own to reminisce and huddled her legs near her torso for a podium to rest the pages on. “Naw. We don't have that kind of time today anyway.” She smiled, giving him a sideways glance.

“Just what am I starting with anyway?” He asked, looking at the front cover. “Batman?” A brow went up.

“Surely you've heard of Batman!” She insisted, eyes wide.

He snorted and nodded. “I didn't live that far under a rock Bunty. I can grasp the popular basics.”

She giggled and the pair quickly delved into silence, the flipping of pages and Bowser's happy panting when one of them reached in between them to scratch his ears. The next two hours passed by as if a mere breath, yet allowing him to get past all that she'd assigned him. It was strange, in a good way, to sit there with her and relive his younger years. The contentment and happiness he could almost feel leeching into him from her was strong and it spurred him on to keep reading, even when the sun started going down.

Had he known they were going to get into an argument over it, he might have changed his mind on the whole thing.

“I'm just not too sure how he could win if Batman has kryptonite.” He replied, ladling them up helpings from the reheated soup.

“He can stop bullets!” She hotly denied, leaning over the counter as she watched him work. “Jump tall buildings in a single bound! Batman is just a man! He can't compete!”

He placed a bowl in front of her before going for his own. “Unless he's exposed to the one weakness that can turn him into a mortal man.” He countered, taking his chair. “Does Superman have any experience in fighting without his powers?”

There was a pause. “Not that I know of...” She mumbled, sticking a large helping of vegetables in her mouth, almost sourly so.

He smirked. “So if Batman has the ability to nullify everything that Superman is, he would win, correct?”

She nearly glowered at the poor cupboard across the way before whipping in his direction, finger pointed in his face. “IF!” She insisted, eyes hot. “Superman could whip around at super speed and create a tornado, sucking Batman in! Batman wouldn't be able to breathe and then he'd be knocked out and Superman would win!”

“Doesn't Batman have a utility belt which is pretty much capable of handling every contingency?”

She growled. “The stats don't lie! Batman can't fly, but even if he has his grappling hook, that defeats the entire law of physics and science! There's no way those metal prongs would come unglued out of brick buildings that easily!”

The debate raged on for the entire helping that sat going cold in front of them. He finished his long before she did hers and urged her to eat up before it went cold and wasn't as palatable. He managed to take care of the dishes in penance for upsetting her, getting her okay to do so just this once. The remainder of the soup went in a container in the fridge for anyone to have the next day, although he wanted to make something else then. Sunday was a brand new day full of different things and he wanted to make food to accommodate the thought.

“I will dissuade the tension by agreeing with you that Superman can easily win against Batman if his one weakness isn't taken into account. I don't know exactly how easy it is to get a material off a planet that is light years away anyway. This would make Superman the winner by default.” He amended, lips kissing her forehead.

She sighed, arms going around him quietly. “I know, I know. I just get too wrapped up in the whole thing. Sorry.” She apologized, contrite smile meeting his eyes.

“No harm done Bunty.” His eyes crinkled in mirth. “Although, I will take notes on such things that you're passionate about and defend accordingly next time.” He chuckled when she pouted at him. “I feel up for the last movie in the trilogy we missed last night. Shall we finish out the last few sodas and the remainder of the evening and start it over again? I believe I may be able to finish out the journey of the one ring to rule them all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lunch: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cawl


	33. an odd meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He stood there, completely thrown around and at a loss for words as the pair converged on the poor woman who had a hand to her forehead, tears streaming down the side of her face that wasn't covered with hair. He stared as they walked her to the nearby sitting area, hovering like a pair of mother hens. He watched Vikki shake her head and wave them off, mouth moving in a voice too quiet for him to hear.

It was definitely midnight before they got to bed and all but poured themselves into the mattress. The day was easily past eight before either woke and that was primarily because he couldn't sleep in past the dawn if he tried. Years of early waking had programmed his mental code to wake up sooner than he wished. It gave him opportunity to watch her sleep, to prop his head up on his hand over the pillow and gently brush the hair away from an ear so he could give a butterfly kiss to her cheek.

The weekend was almost over and while he would try to squeeze as many hours as he could out of the Sunday that was attempting to show its face, he would need to leave just after dinner to take care of the clothes in his bag, to see what his own fridge interior looked like, and to prepare for Monday. The glorious time with her had stretched out into infinity, becoming the new normalcy that he was sad to leave yet again. To feel like a petulant child stamping its foot in need to get its way.

His free hand shifted from her face to Bowser as the dog slowly attempted to crawl in between the tiny gap he left between himself and Samara, looking for more head scratches and attention. The space wasn't enough to keep from jostling her and she shifted at the intrusion, but didn't wake. Rather, to better the scenario, she rolled over, one hand groping until it found part of his pajama top and was still once it lightly gripped the fabric.

It was hard to resist touching her at the notion. That she reached out for him while still unconscious, needing to know he was there. His heart beat hard as his emotions raged without a single outlet to their name. His jaw clenched, fingers moving against Bowser's head in stark need to twitch and release everything she suddenly created in him.

He could think it and feel safe. He loved her. More than he ever thought he would, more than he deserved to. This precious human being had put so much in him, had incited him to feel things he thought were dead and cast away to the void long ago. To feel the raging fire of them again was a breath of life in itself.

His mood severely dampened and altered at the notion of his fear in telling her. How he wished it were so! She gave no indication of the contrary for him to need to hide his feelings, but the scar that rested across his torso, the gaping wound that had only closed up with the tourniquet she continuously applied, refused to disappear. The generous amount of time with her like this was definitely the healing salve he didn't know he so desperately needed until this knowledge hit him.

Soon. He hoped someday before much more time had passed that he would be able to look into her eyes and not choke. That the words would flow from him into her ears and remain stuck in her heart. That she would feel as captivated by him as he had from her when she uttered it a few days ago; at every moment when she repeated herself upon request.

He could've stayed in that bed to watch her rest and pet Bowser until his fingers went numb. The morning was high enough through the gaps in the blankets she put up to allow them more time to sleep in, and he used it to take in her features. The slight frown as her face relaxed, the length of her lashes, the delicate curve of her nose. The near indistinct hum of the breath in and out of her nose. The small puffs of air that he could almost feel through the gap of the top of his pajamas. The moment was etching itself into every brain cell that he could devote to capturing their warmth under the blankets, the slight weight of Bowser pulling those covers down, and the comfortable feeling that this was the most perfect decision he had made when she sent him those texts to come over. He knew then and there that if such weekends didn't continue for many more months with someone staying at either place, he would be as lonely as he had in the beginning months when he moved to California.

A small chirp on the far nightstand attempted to break the mood and he scowled over her sleeping form at the cell phone he couldn't reach to silence.

It went off a few minutes later and he wondered who was messaging her. It couldn't be someone calling because the ringing was too spread out, as would an alarm. She made no mention of them doing anything so early in the morning and thus would have no need to set one. One final ring a minute later had him sighing. It must be important if the ring went off so many times in the span of a few minutes. It was unlikely that so many people were attempting to get a hold of her at once, unless it was Samuel, which was understood.

Against his better judgment, a hand reached down and nudged her shoulder a little. “Samara. Wake up. Someone is texting you I believe.”

She groaned quietly and shuffled a little closer to the voice and heat. There was something blocking her and a yawn escaped before her eyes could open. Dark brown sluggishly blinked, unable to find the strength in the morning to do more than peer through her lashes. The darkness was everywhere, but threads of light allowed just enough to see a huge mass very close to her face. Her brain was too tired to freak out and yet she almost instinctively knew whom it was. The night hadn't altered itself that much and the feeling of security was there when she woke, as it had been over the entire evening.

She yawned again and slowly attempted to sit up, but the blankets were pulling against her and she looked to the source of trouble to find four legs of happy panting inches from her face. The palm not helping her up reached for the small head and scratched his fur, smile slowly taking shape. She looked over at the much larger presence just as close an her smile widened. “Good morning Charles.” She murmured, lazily blinking his way.

She was so cute. Had he told her that within the last few days? A hand came up, resting on a cheek and his thumb stroking her skin. “Good morning, you adorable little Bunty you.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead before fully righting himself to stretch his arms. “Your phone has been going off a few times. It must be important because it's been sporadic, yet constant.”

She turned and grabbed the device, pulling up the text history to find Angela had been the culprit.

_Sam! We're heading to The Daily Grind for coffee and thought this would be perfect for us to catch up._

The second message was only a few minutes later.

_Crap, I forgot to mention that we're going to be leaving soon, so send me a response asap on your status._

Her lips tilted at the final, one word insistence.

_Marco!_

“Angel - I mean my friends are asking if I want to meet up at The Daily Grind to catch them up about us.” She reported.

She looked up from the phone in her lap, slightly conflicted. She didn't want to lose any iota of time that could be spent with him, but she also didn't want to ignore her good friends just because this happened to be bad timing. She suddenly realized she was about ready to repeat last week's debacle and looked to him. “It sounds like they're leaving soon and they want me to know if I can meet them.” Teeth bit her lip, brow furrowing up. “I can tell them that it's a bad time if you want. I invited you over to spend the weekend together, but I feel bad for kicking you out so soon when the day hasn't even begun.”

He smiled and reached over to pat her hand. “I believe breakfast at The Daily Grind sounds in order.” He replied. “While I always want to keep you all to myself like this, I realize that's not a healthy thing to do. Plus, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to introduce myself to your friends. I assume they've heard a few things about me already as it is.”

She noted that glint in his eye and smirked. “They have, yes. All good things I can assure you though.”

He chuckled and swung his legs off his side of the bed, fingers already undoing the buttons on his top. “If you'll permit me first, I will take up the shower and try to utilize as little hot water as possible.”

She nodded and picked Bowser up, kissing the top of his head and giggling when he kept licking her. “You silly doggy! Stop that!” She laughed, trying to hold him away without dropping him. She finally let him jump back to the bed he'd been sitting on watching them and went for her cell phone. The sound of the shower suddenly turned on and her eyes darted to it, teeth biting her lip as she resisted joining him. Her shower wasn't remotely the size of his and while they could finagle their limbs and get around each other, such close quarters were going to put them later than they needed to be.

'Maybe later then...' She mused, going for her closet.

She didn't pick anything too special. She found something she had worn a long time ago, when she spent the afternoon with only Vikki and Angela at their place. It was too feminine for her at the time, but it was baggy, long-sleeved, with the barest trace of a collar so it made her feel comfortable enough to get from her place to theirs. She stared at the good-sized amount of lace at the hem, at the roses and petal design. She never thought herself for such girly things, but being with Charles made her want to put more things on. For him and her.

“Is that it? I approve wholeheartedly, Bunty.”

She whipped around with a shriek and clutched the dress to herself. “Will you stop doing that?!” She gasped, trying to even out her breathing.

He grinned and cut his laughter short at the look she was giving him over her glasses. He reached down and kissed her nose in apology, seeing her eyes suddenly drop from the slightly damp hair to the towel around his waist. He smirked and towered over her, seeing her eyes widen. “My sincerest apologies, Bunty. However shall I make it up to you?”

Her fingers clutched the tunic in a vice, heart hammering away already. She suddenly noted the look in his eyes, what probably matched hers, and broke the stare at the gravity of what awaited them. She heaved a sigh and turned away. “You'll have to make it up to me later. Last time we attempted this, Bowser interrupted us and now it's Angela and Vikki.” She looked at him with a chagrined smile, tossing the tunic on the bed and going for her top. “I won't say goodbye today until you...make it up to me.” Her eyes dropped to the carpet as she flung the top onto a different spot of the mattress. “I think I'd like a little something to get my through next week.”

His eyes avidly watched her divest the pants, raking in her form that his hands suddenly, desperately wished to follow from head to toe. “You say that like we won't be seeing each other at all after work, Samara...” He heard himself say.

She stopped in front of him, watching his eyes fight to stay on her face. She suddenly giggled a little and crossed her arms over her breasts as if to save him from the torture. “Well, I don't know exactly how the week is going to go. I don't mind if you stay over here again, but I do kind of want to do the raid next Friday night.” She looked to the doorway, eyes narrowing in thought. “I suppose you could always play with my rubix cube or sudoku puzzles if you get bored.” Fingers tapped an arm. “I have more movies you can always watch. The prequel is stuck in with the rest of the Lord of the Flings series.”

He brought a hand up on her shoulder and gave it a pat. “I'll be delighted to be in your company Bunty. But perhaps you should go shower and dress yourself before I can't hold myself back anymore in front of you.”

She looked down to the impressive cleavage line she had unintentionally made and scurried around him, face hot. She slammed the door, hearing his muffled laughter. “I heard that!” She shouted through the door, as mortified as she was in the beginning. She hurried into the shower, using all of the adrenaline to scrub herself down harshly in order to forget about everything she'd rather dive head first into instead.

This was insane! Was the never-ending surge of innuendos and foreplay going to keep going like this?! She was really proud of how she was able to stand in front of him sans clothes without turning into a tomato, but such things were way too common and she wondered if they were going to keep flirting with the idea of tearing into each other at any given time of the day.

Teeth bit her lip as she shut the water off and let herself drip-dry for a second before grabbing a towel. She didn't know if she hated the fact that this new and highly explosive libido of hers was so active and overwhelming or nice because it meant that she could do those things with Charles. They had connected so quickly and she surmised it was because of the physicality, but this weekend had seen absolutely nothing of the sort and it was kind of refreshing. They were just together and slept in the same bed. They didn't have to have sex in it in order to bond.

By the time she wrapped herself up in two towels and threw the door open, she was ready to give him a big hug for his unconscious thoughtfulness. She looked to the bedroom, but saw movement in the main area and hesitated for a second before hurrying into her room. They were probably already keeping Angela and Vikki waiting and she eeped when she realized she hadn't actually messaged Angela back when she grabbed her phone earlier!

She rushed into the bedroom, nearly tripping over Bowser, and opened the text log.

_Oh my gosh I'm so sorry I haven't texted you back until now! I got up late, then got in the shower with the intent on meeting you guys and totally forgot! I'm almost ready and I'll bring Bowser and Charles with me._

In less than a minute, there was a response.

_You're bringing Charles?! Is he at your place?! He has to be or you would've said he'd be meeting you there! Omfg girl, you need to explain yourself when you get here!_

She cringed a little, wondering just how deep of a grave she dug, before hurrying into her outfit. She didn't usually wear what seemed to resemble a rust color, but it went with her hair fairly well. Dark brown tights finished it off and then she was hurrying into the living room without drying her hair.

She snagged Bowser's leash, finding he had trotted over to Charles whom kneeled down and was scratching him under the chin. She grabbed her bag and double-checked for the basics before shouldering it and facing him. “Okay! I'm ready to go.”

He stood and could tell she wasn't by how damp her hair was. “I beg to differ Samara. It's not warm enough for you to go out with such wet locks. I seem to recall your brother commenting on how easily you can get sick.”

“I'll be fine!” She argued, though she went when the arm on her shoulders directed her to the bathroom.

“Nonsense. I would be besides myself with worry if I let anything happen to you. Sit down here for a moment while I locate your hair dryer.”

She plopped on the toilet lid and looked to him as he hunted and quickly found it. “We're already late. I feel bad for making them wait for us.”

“A few more moments won't hurt them any. If they're at The Daily Grind, I'm sure your friends can make conversation with the baristas in the meantime.”

That was all he said before he clicked the appliance on and let the noise drown out any further retort she could make. She sat there with a sigh and let him mother her, knowing she wasn't going to win against him on this. Part of her already knew that he wouldn't let her just up and leave. Ever since the drive when he mentioned her inhaler, all of the self-love exercises, and the gentlemanly mannerisms back to the beginning spoke of it. He would never let her put herself out for others before taking care of herself first.

She smiled, eyes squeezing shut as he wiggled the hairdryer over her bangs, fingers jostling them a little. She knew his hands were much larger than hers, but never before in this instant, when they were combing through her hair and gently catching clumps in his fingers to separate and dry quicker, did they feel any larger than when they practically covered her scalp.

The noise suddenly quieted as he took a step back and felt for possible wet spots which needed more attention. He noticed the look of bliss on her face and smiled softly, giving her a few extra finger combing attempts before withdrawing. “I believe you are now good to go, Bunty.”

Her eyes fluttered open, having trouble focusing with the spell he had her under. She stood with a yawn and looked to him. “You could've put me to sleep doing that.” She kidded, arms going around his waist. “Maybe I should have you do that when I get overwhelmed at work.”

“Just say the word and I'll be happy to comply.” He mused, giving her a quick squeeze. “I do believe your friends will hold me responsible for being so grossly late if we don't leave right now.”

She nodded and they finally headed out, Bowser leashed and already pulling her ahead. She attempted to carry him down the stairs, losing as Charles urged her to take more care on the way down and that he'd help her dog to the bottom. She was more amazed that Bowser let him do so willingly, but he had spent the weekend in Charles's company and was very comfortable with him now.

The walk was spent mostly in silence, hands entwined again, Bowser jumping around at everything on the way there. She didn't feel pressured to say anything, to look his way to make sure he was enjoying the walk and was okay. She did spy one or two glances as they stopped at the crosswalks to find him with a content smile, blue crinkled when their eyes met. It was comforting to know that they could spend so much time together and not need to say one word. She knew that her being next to him, in allowing him to touch her and in needing to show him the affection that was bursting out of her, had put him in that zone. It made her happy to see him so happy and it was all because they had each other.

It was almost sad when The Daily Grind came into view and she would have to divide her attention between all of the people she loved. She knew she was going to need practice with that soon because she didn't want to ignore one person for the other. She noted said people she was thinking of when she went past the door he held open for her, not even able to get to the register to order something before being assaulted.

Angela was the first to wrap her arms around Samara, having seen the pair arriving through entirely glass windows. “There you are! Oh my god I can't believe it!”

“Angela...what did we talk about while we waited...” Vikki calmly stated, coming up behind everyone.

Samara accepted hugs from her friends and smiled their way, turning to find Charles hanging back a bit. He had taken the leash she offered him once she saw Angela heading her way and Bowser was pulling on it to join the group. “Angela, Vikki, this is Charles Jones...my boyfriend. Charles, this is Angela O'Neill and Vikki Song.”

Angela pushed Samara to arm's length to see her, eying the outfit and happy look on her face. “What the hell?! We leave you for what...one week maybe?! And you've got yourself a guy like this?! Just how did you manage that?”

Vikki took a second to cut the awkwardness Angela wasn't helping with and stuck a hand out through everyone, seeing Charles come closer for it. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you Charles.”

Charles's hand also extended, pleasant smile on his face. “Likewise Miss Song.”

“Please call me Vik -”

It happened like lightening, but it always did. Vikki's eyes shot open, as a multitude of images flashed through her mind. Many of them had to do with Samara and Charles in her apartment accompanied by the sound of laughter, but those were rapidly drowned out by the sound of a noise. An erotic one. Made primarily from the sound of a woman who was not Samara and quickly overtaken by the harrowed noise of weeping...what matched Charles's voice tone. The oncoming sharp edge of emotional pain that was just as hot and deep as a knife wound. The burn was all encompassing as it trailed up her arm like a plague and Vikki yanked her hand away, gasping shuddery breaths that had her eyes tearing up.

Angela was on her friend in a second, hands on her arms, lips near an ear. “It's okay; I'm here. What did you see? Talk to me.”

Samara turned worried eyes to Vikki, hands out as if to help somehow. “Vikki! Do you need to sit down?”

He stood there, completely thrown around and at a loss for words as the pair converged on the poor woman who had a hand to her forehead, tears streaming down the side of her face that wasn't covered with hair. He stared as they walked her to the nearby sitting area, hovering like a pair of mother hens. He watched Vikki shake her head and wave them off, mouth moving in a voice too quiet for him to hear.

The introduction and joy of seeing more of her life was thrown like an upturned table. He stood there entirely forgotten save for Dee who came around the counter and stood next to him. “What's going on here?” She murmured, brows furrowed.

Charles could only shake his head. “Your guess is better than mine would be I surmise.” He mumbled, brow going up.

Dee watched Vikki, a hum escaping her after a second. “Ah...I think I know what happened.” Dee met his eyes in a sideways glance. “You shook hands with her right?”

Charles turned to the shorter woman, desperately wishing anyone would fill him in. “Yes. Was that a problem? Does she have a sensory touch issue?”

“Uh...kind of...” A hand covered Dee's mouth in thought as her arms crossed against her chest. “Vikki is...special. No mistaking that. But not in that way. She's got a gift. She can see things. I haven't gotten to hang out with everyone for a while so it's been a while since I saw it.”

He stared across the way, watching the trio in their own little world, wondering just what Vikki witnessed and started to get scared that she saw too far where he didn't wish anyone else to ever know. Such things were for his own heart to deal with, not Samara's friends. Not even Samara.

Said group remained where they were, not moving while Vikki's eyes kept dripping as she tried to clear away what had assaulted her and return to herself. She took deep breaths, focusing on the concern and love of the other two and the smell of coffee nearby.

Vikki took Samara's hands, brow upward. “Sam...I...”

Samara kneeled in front of her friend. “It's okay. I know you didn't mean to. I guess maybe a handshake wasn't the right way to go about doing it, but I know it seems rude not to.”

“You should've let me do that!” Angela murmured, squeezing the other hand. “You're as white as a sheet. Just what did you see?!”

Vikki's head shook, the news of what she felt coming over again, but now from a detached perspective. “Sam... What happened to Charles? Is he alright?”

Samara looked over her shoulder, cringing a little as said person was staring their direction and looking in need of answers, but hesitant to come over. “He used to be married. I'm sure you might have guessed what happened though...” She sighed and looked back to her friend. “Take a few deep breaths. Do you mind if I explain a few things?”

“Go ahead. I'll be here and apologize to him when you two are ready to come over.”

Samara nodded and stood, turning back and crossing the short distance with a cringe. “Sorry...” She mumbled, looking to his shirt. “I didn't think Vikki would...see something. Had I known such a thing like that was going to happen, I would've kept you from touching hands.”

He sighed, head shaking at it all. It was too much to take in and despite the break while they figured things out, he was still not any better than when the episode took place. “Shall we order coffee and you can give me some more information? It sounds like she's got some kind of power, although I'm wary of what she might have glimpsed.”

Samara peered over her shoulder as they headed to the register. “I don't know if it happened because of her yoga and meditation thing or what. I knew about it years ago. She's always been like that. We just accepted that she's so much more aware of our emotions as well as her own and she's always helped us out. She and Angela are roommates and she's helping Angela so much with her own anger issues. Vikki tried to explain it to me once, but I couldn't figure out the how's and why's of it all. It was just too beyond my realm of comprehension.”

“Did she say anything about what she felt?”

“She just asked what happened to you and if you were alright.” Samara's brow furrowed upward in worry. “I...told her you used to be married, but I didn't say anything else. I hope that was okay.”

He sighed a little, lips somewhat tight. It might have been common knowledge at the office, but he didn't want the whole world to know. Originally, he didn't even want the office to know. It wasn't something he cared to ever share and it was hard enough to let Samara in on it, lest she react as some at Young Technologies first had. Thankfully, that worry was unfounded, but he didn't know her friends and while he couldn't foresee himself hanging out with them like this a lot in the future, they were here now and he didn't want to make a bad impression on them. He didn't want to worry that they might interject some ideas into Samara's head about him without knowing all of the facts.

Although, if Vikki had noticed some of his past which brought him to California in the first place, maybe she saw the interest and felt the emotion he held toward Samara. She seemed like a much calmer person than the red-headed counterpart, who was the spitting image of a bonfire. If he was lucky, there would be a little truth all around and he could get to the bottom of this.

“Here you are Charles.” Dee announced, setting the coffee on the counter space. “Sam, did you want to order anything while you're up here?”

Samara did just that and grasped the cup a few moments later. She slowly took his hand, entwining their fingers and gently tugging him to the couches with a supportive look. She stopped in front of the pair, meeting their eyes for a second, before taking up the empty couch adjacent to them.

He felt the awkwardness of it all until Vikki sat forward with an encouraging smile. “Charles, I'm so sorry for what happened. I didn't mean to pry. It sometimes happens to me suddenly.” Hands floated out as if to grasp his for a reassuring pat, but kept pulling back in hesitation. “If I may add, I think what you and Sam have is very beautiful and I'm so happy for you two.”

A small chunk of everything felt like it sloughed off and disappeared. He managed a small smile, nodding his thanks. “That's very kind of you Miss Song. I appreciate the subtly. It's not something I wish to have announced to any, let alone the world.”

The noise of female moaning went through Vikki's ears again and she shook her head a little to clear it. “I understand. Truly. You have nothing to worry about.” Vikki sat back, smiling to alter the mood in the area as the pair across her went for their drinks. “Now...why don't you tell us how you two met... We've heard some things about you, all good I assure you, but it's such a sudden thing to know that you came here together.” The uncovered eye jumped to Samara knowingly. “Did you have a good weekend together so far?”

Samara flushed a little, hardly listening as Angela sputtered and spouted disbelief that she had a guy in her apartment all weekend long. She grinned and nodded, shoulders inching toward his. “We had a slumber party with Lord of the Flings and went grocery shopping together and read comics and coffee!” She happily announced, holding up the cup.

Angela sighed, smiling a little at the utter joy on her friend's face. “That's great Sam.” Green eyes shifted to blue. “I'm glad you found someone that treats you right from what I can see.”

Charles smiled a little, seeing Angela bristle. He knew then and there that out of the two of them, she was the most protective of Samara by nature and it would take a little more push to win her over, even though it wasn't required. “I do believe that Samara is better to me than I am to her.”

“Oh don't even Charles. You've bought me lunch pretty much every outing we've been on, you don't let me even touch a door anymore, and I think one of my hands belongs to you now.” Samara kidded, though she was on the verge of childlike giggles.

He smiled at her, raising her knuckles which were still in his possession and kissed them, not caring that they had an audience. “I told you before that there would be a great many things you would never need to do again if you were in my care Bunty.”

Vikki could practically see the amount of love growing between them as they became lost in their own little world. It puffed up behind the couch they were sitting on, arms flailing at the cute things they were doing. How Charles craned his head forward, how Samara leaned into him just a little as she verbally played with him back. How she held onto her coffee with one hand, the other almost content to remain as it was for the rest of the day.

Everything about them screamed solace and warmth. Vikki turned to Angela as the pair seemed to forget them, smile wide and a hand gently patting her knee.

Angela leaned forward, finding one of Vikki's ears as her eyes remained on the two. “I might be a hygienist, but even I'm not going to be able to clean up my teeth from all the cavities I'm getting right now.”

“Now, now...” Vikki gently chided. “Whether they meant to show us this or not, it's only proof that they are really good together. No need to worry anymore. He'll be good to her.”

“Just what exactly did you see?” Angela murmured, making sure not to be heard.

Vikki's good mood was drenched in the sorrow she felt moments ago. “A sadness that I hope he only has to witness once for the rest of his life.” She vaguely responded.

Angela hummed quietly, eyes darting back to the pair before suddenly standing with a stretch. “Okay...on that note, I think we're a pair of third wheels here. I saw all I need to.” Her hand stuck out, getting blue eyes. “Charles Jones, you're okay for now. But harm our Sam and I'll hurt you in ways you don't really want to think about.”

He smiled and put his coffee down, reaching for Angela's hand with his other still greedily stuck to Samara's. “Perish the thought Miss O'Neill.” His brows went up at the amount of strength she exuded and he suddenly knew she was much stronger than she looked and was as real a threat as Samuel. “You have my word. I would take all of the pain before ever letting Samara endure any of it.”

“Good. That's what I want to hear.” Angela let go and took a step away from the couch, feeling Vikki stand as well. “Later Sam. You two stay and enjoy yourselves, you hear? Get some food from Dee before you head out. We'll chat later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the best of first impressions... ;A;


	34. no more glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting was a REALLY hard thing to sit through when he was standing up there. He had always been charismatic and the confidence he exuded was sexy enough, but now it was lethal. Bad enough to have her biting her lip and her thighs squeezing tightly a few times. He was in a suit like he often was, hair gelled back as it always was...with glasses on. Because she asked. Because he, as he once mentioned, would do anything she wanted if it was no severe cost to him.

She had thought that she would miss being with him in her apartment and all of the closeness they shared over that weekend. They didn't go anywhere aside The Daily Grind, the grocery store, and to walk Bowser. They pretty much resided on the main room housing the dining room, living room, and kitchen. They didn't even really do anything in bed aside that Sunday before he left, although he questioned if she was even in the mood for it and was willing to merely part with a kiss.

She thought she would miss that so much when the office life beckoned and the week reset itself. She had figured that being stuck in her room for a good portion of the day and not being able to see him whenever she wanted, to not be able to snuggle or hold hands, would drive her insane. She was happy that she was wrong.

“ _Would_ _you_ _mind?_ _I_ _know_ _you_ _have_ _yet_ _to_ _do_ _so...but...I_ _kind_ _of_ _want_ _to_ _see_ _them_ _at_ _the_ _office..._ _”_

“ _It's_ _no_ _trouble_ _Bunty._ _I_ _merely_ _did_ _so_ _to_ _fit_ _more_ _of_ _a_ _business_ _personae_ _for_ _Young_ _Technologies._ _I_ _wouldn't_ _be_ _the_ _only_ _one_ _in_ _the_ _entire_ _building_ _with_ _them_ _after_ _all._ _Lucy_ _is_ _the_ _front_ _desk_ _clerk_ _and_ _no_ _one_ _cares_ _about_ _her_ _having_ _them._ _”_

“ _Really?_ _Well_ _then...if_ _it_ _won't_ _put_ _you_ _out_ _too_ _much..._ _Monday_ _for_ _me?_ _”_

“ _As_ _you_ _wish_ _Samara._ _”_

A meeting was a REALLY hard thing to sit through when he was standing up there. He had always been charismatic and the confidence he exuded was sexy enough, but now it was lethal. Bad enough to have her biting her lip and her thighs squeezing tightly a few times. He was in a suit like he often was, hair gelled back as it always was...with glasses on. Because she asked. Because he, as he once mentioned, would do anything she wanted if it was no severe cost to him.

Why didn't she remember that they had a team meeting today?! She would've made sure to avoid such a request when she had to somehow sit through half an hour and remember to breathe! The second she saw him when he knocked on her door to announce the five minute warning, she was about ready to attack him with the door open!

“ _Bunty?_ _”_

_Her jaw dropped to the floor and the adrenaline that shot through her was enough to help catapult her over the expanse of a desk she had and effectively tackle him where he stood!_

“ _We_ _have_ _our_ _meeting_ _in_ _a_ _few_ _minutes._ _Are_ _you_ _ready?_ _”_

_She couldn't hear him over the rushing of blood in her ears and felt like a simpering puddle. Well...simpering something..._

_He suddenly smirked and crossed his arms, crinkling the navy tie he had on with the light gray suit. “Is there a problem Miss Young?” He cracked, knowing brow going up at the look on her face._

_How did she make it around her desk when she couldn't even feel her feet?! She stood in front of him with dead arms and no legs. She couldn't get her eyes to shrink to normal proportions so they stopped hurting. The only thought that kept running through her brain, which she was desperately trying to keep from blurting out, was how she'd love to take that suit off and lick him from head to toe right then and there._

_Her hands latched out and yanked him to her._

_He was ready for the embrace and was honestly surprised she held back as long as she did. It was all over her face, the size of her eyes and how they kept raking up his attire, the flush on her face, the teeth biting her lip. Her arms tightly went around his neck, his hands spanning the small width of her waist and nearly coming together as they gripped her hips._

“ _Perhaps_ _you'd_ _like_ _me_ _to_ _only_ _wear_ _glasses_ _in_ _the_ _office_ _from_ _now_ _on?_ _”_ _He_ _rasped_ _when_ _they_ _finally_ _parted._

_Her haggard breathing fanned his face, galloping heart matching his. “I don't think that's a good idea...” She mumbled, staring at his lips. “I don't think I'll survive. Or you. Maybe you first...”_

_He chuckled and brought his hand to the back of her head again, relishing in how turned on she was from a mere pair of glasses when a loud throat clearing had them jumping away from each other._

“ _Meeting_ _now_ _guys._ _Make_ _out_ _later._ _”_ _Umed_ _announced,_ _already_ _turning_ _from_ _the_ _doorway._

“Sam? Do you have any questions?”

Speaking of...

Her gaze whipped over to said person who thankfully interrupted them before things became even worse. She was sadly grateful for the intervention, as unwanted as it was at the time.

“Me?! Questions?” Wide brown eyes looked at her co-workers who were all staring at her, landing on Charles's eyes and raised brow. The light shone off his glasses, partially blocking his eyes for a second and her mouth gaped open and closed like a fish out of water.

Right now, being pulled toward him by the sudden need for him, versus the office protocol she was supposed to follow, she certainly felt like one.

“No question!” She loudly blurted out, face exploding. She wanted to put her face in her hands and die under the table. She cleared her throat and looked to the papers in front of her. “N – no...no questions...” She mumbled, shoulders at her ears.

“Then the meeting is adjourned for now.” Charles announced, watching everyone but her get out of their chairs. He waited until the room had vacated before sitting in Umed's previous spot next to her and taking in her chagrin. “Are you going to survive the day Bunty?” He quipped, smirking.

She glared at him, but the tomato shade she had on belayed her upset. She finally threw her face in her hands with a huge sigh. “I didn't think this through.” She grumbled, mostly to herself. “I should've had you put the suit on with the glasses before making a final decision.”

The grin turned evil. “Perhaps I may accompany you back to your place after work today and you can show me all of those thoughts in your head that had you biting your lip all throughout the meeting.”

Bashful eyes darted from him to the table and back. “Was...it that obvious?!” She squeaked, mortified that everyone else saw.

He chuckled and patted an exposed knee from another pencil skirt she had on. He leaned forward until his lips found an ear, fingers tracing light circles over the area. “If I were a lesser man, I'd tease you a little more to see just how much you can unravel in the middle of the day... But I shall hold myself back and let you loosen my tie for me at your place.”

Her head could've exploded from the image alone. She glared at him a little for putting it there when lunch hadn't even shown up yet. Her hand lashed out and grabbed the lapel of his suit, seeing him more than smug and her fingers tightened at how easy his job was. He knew how well she could get turned around and all it took was a look, an outfit, a smile.

Her eyes moved to the wall of windows separating the rest of the work floor from the meeting room. The table was glass as well and had someone passed by, they would've had a lot of questions or surmise a few things she didn't need them to. As it was, in that second, everyone was at their cubicles and not an extra pair of eyes was in sight.

She looked at him over her glasses, suddenly dropping her hand from the lapel to his stomach and opening a button near his lap. “How nice of you to invite me ahead of time Mr. Jones...” She murmured, eyes on fire. She took in the wide eyes at the sudden, out of character boldness she knew she wouldn't even willingly do had there been people around. This was the only chance she had and she was going to throw it back in his face times two to make him suffer as she had all morning. If he planned on teasing her, he would need to get used to it possibly being served back in his court with equal strength.

Another finger went and undid one of the three buttons to his jacket. She leaned forward until she found his ear, lips curling. “I'll pencil you in for the afternoon...say, after dinner perhaps?”

He loudly cleared his throat when the other button to his jacket went and the fabric slid back just enough once free of its confines to throw his mind back to where he was. He rotated the chair away, face on fire, hands trembling. The dangerous aspect of where they were, who they were to each other, and the fact that he really, really liked the simple game she suddenly invented had him feeling like he was going to need more to cover himself before feeling safe to stand in trousers.

She giggled a little and stood, hands on the back of the chair. “Perhaps next time you try to toy with me Mr. Jones, you'll be reminded that there are ramifications to your actions...” Her lips found his ear again. “I'm not that shy girl you can tease on your whim and come out ahead with anymore.”

The sultry boldness had him shivering and his lips curling on their own. The adrenaline in his system gave way to more...pleasant things and he turned the chair once he felt confident enough to stand without embarrassing himself. He let it rest between them like a peace maker, also a barrier for both their sakes. “Dear Miss Young,” He murmured, grin matching hers, “if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were baiting me.”

Someone passed by the hall in front of the office and her eyes darted to the movement for a second, knowing the moment had passed. “You don't seem so terribly put out by it.” She grinned, watching him button the jacket back up with a blush. She took a step away and headed for the door, glad it was shut. “Dinner, then my place. It's a date.”

She didn't let him finish as she headed back to her office and cracked the door for him in case he needed her.

It felt strange to be so brazen in a public place. It felt like she had jumped from an airplane and made it safely to the ground. She didn't hate it, she would admit. She couldn't imagine doing so all the time, but just as she inspired things in him, the opposite was perhaps more the case. The thought of everything she had just done, where other people could've witnessed it all, had her lips raising at the image of how much she had changed with his help.

The day passed by with much less interesting occurrences, allowing her to get lost in her work and even traipse into the next day when a quiet knock on the door sounded. She took that moment to rest her eyes from the problem she was untangling and bid the person to enter.

“Have you forgotten that there is dinner very soon?” He announced, taking in the squinting eyes and pinching of her nose.

“For a brief moment, yes I did.” She admitted, feeling the strain in her temples at how much she had been focusing for far too long on the screen.

“What are you working on?” He asked, brows furrowed in inquiry as he rounded the desk. He didn't wait for her to answer as he quickly read the calculations she was in front of. “Ah.” He responded, straightening. “I do believe this isn't due quite yet Bunty. Perhaps you should take a load off for the day and let me help you into my car.”

She jumped a little at the hand that plopped onto her head affectionately. She leaned back in the seat, the notion still following her. She looked up at him, finding a kind smile on his face as the stillness of his fingers took action and slowly went through her hair a few times.

She leaned his way with an appreciative hum, the feel of it calming the headache that she could start to feel. “You're right Charles.” She mumbled, eyes closed in full enjoyment. It took a few mental reminders that they were done for the day and she could leave the chair.

She finally stood, regretting moving when his hand slipped down her hair and back. She grabbed the bag before shutting down her laptop and main computer. She could finish everything tomorrow. Another day would be here fast enough, but she'd not lose the chance to spend the evening with him again.

“I'll need to take Bowser outside for a walk.” She reported, hand lightly clutching the strap as they waved to Lucy on their way out. “Are we going out or eating in?”

“At the risk of this morning, I wouldn't prefer to repeat said endeavor in a public place.” He mused, lips tilting as they headed for the elevator. He let her in first and stood next to her, finding the down arrow already pressed for the parking garage by another occupant. “I say that your second option sounds more preferable should things take an unforeseen turn of events.”

To her grabbing his tie like she originally wanted to do and pulling him to her. To let her lips meet his and never part again. To let her hands roam inside the folds of his clothes until they located skin...but even then not stop.

She was red as a strawberry as she exited the elevator, though no one else could figure out what they were going on about. She would've given them more clues to the conversation than he would. She scurried to his car and let him open the door, considering he didn't let her until he got there to press the automatic door lock.

A thumb met her teeth as she stared out the window, watching the city pass them by. He didn't make any talk the entire way, but she didn't think she could reciprocate if she tried. Her mind was too busy in its location in her bedroom, already tearing into him.

He didn't miss the tinge in her cheeks, the fidgeting of her thighs, the tapping of her finger on a leg. Anticipation nipped at his conscious and he knew he'd need to probably rearrange some of tonight's setup before assuming how things would go. He tried to keep his foot lighter on the pedal than it wanted to go, lest their arrival be delayed by flashing lights and speeding tickets. He directed everything to the fist tight on the wheel, hardly able to loosen when he needed to make turns.

She was silent the whole way upstairs and hardly greeted Bowser when he came up to her. She kneeled to pet him, heart hammering in her ribcage as she tried to figure out just what to do. She ignored the elephant in the room who had closed the door behind with a light click, but it sounded like a gunshot in the silence. She could feel him as he was within arm's reach, but quiet.

She scrambled to her feet, nearly stumbling in the pencil skirt, and faced him with averted eyes. “Well...Bowser needs to go out...and I'm not too sure just what we should have for dinner yet -”

He cut off her rambling with a hand under her chin, feeling her tremble under him. “At the risk of upsetting your poor canine friend, I don't believe those endeavors will be successful if undertaken first.” His murmured, lips near an ear. “If you don't mind Miss Young...I would very much like to get out of this tie...”

Her brain splintered into a thousand pieces, thighs burning. Teeth bit her lip as she stared at him, at the hooded eyes surrounded by thin metal. She somehow managed a nod, shaking fingers coming up to the jacket she had unbuttoned earlier. She slowly repeated her actions, this time around much more difficult with her hands not obeying her commands. Commands her brain couldn't even form in the knowledge that she'd be sliding that jacket off him and he would probably be pushing his weight down on her within a very short amount of time.

He watched her in silence, his veins already rushing with everything he felt, what he knew he would feel soon. The touch of her hands over the dress shirt, slowly pushing past his shoulders, was like small burns that he tried to focus on as much as possible. His shoulders moved a little as they rotated backward and then the outer coat hit the floor with an audible plop.

“Have you ever taken off a tie Miss Young?” He heard himself say.

She looked to it, mentally trying to remember where she left her inhaler. She was going to need it long before they made it anywhere else in the apartment the way they were going. The way he kept talking like that was not helping. She always kept one on the kitchen counter, which was good because she couldn't remember just where she left her bag in this second.

His hands rose and lightly grabbed hers. “You start with the tie pin...” He murmured, attempting to use her fingers in place of his. It was hard to do, but by the time he got a few tries in with the clip, he felt more used to her tugging the fabric down. “Then pull gently like this to take the tie apart.”

Her patience snapped and her grip accelerated from zero to a hundred the second he finished speaking. Her tongue found his in seconds, the tall counter top digging into her back. She felt his hands press her to his waist and moaned a little as the telltale sign of how ready he was press into her skirt.

Her fingers left his tie in desperate need to touch him back and started fumbling with the buttons. She managed to somehow get to his belt line and left his shirt tucked in as it was, tie still around his neck. Her nails lightly scratched as they shot over tight muscle, causing his arms to jump in reaction to her impatience.

His hands returned the favor and yanked the back of the shirt out of its confines that she had placed in next to her lower back, diving past fabric to her bra. In one swift motion, he undid the clasp and felt the elastic rest as best it could.

She was buzzing, ready to vibrate apart. She needed to get this off and feel him with every inch of skin she had. She couldn't move in this blasted skirt however. Not like she wanted to. She wanted to jump up and wrap her legs around his waist, to sit on the counter like she did in his apartment like the first time. Her hands met roadblocks at his neck and a sliver of thought told her his tie was still done. She recalled the motions he showed her and fingers grabbed the sections, yanking it loose and throwing it somewhere in the entrance area.

That done, she pulled the dress shirt from his pants and pushed it back, mentally commanding his arms to move and help her out. It took a few insistences, but his arms arched back a bit and it too joined everything else on the floor.

“Dear...Miss Young...” He managed around her mouth. “I believe...you're a tad...overdressed.”

It was the last thing he got out before his tongue sought hers out, fingers feeling around the skirt until it hit pay dirt in the zipper. He undid it and tugged it off, feeling her hips move a little in attempt to help. The notion that she was doing that made him lose a little control and he pulled her against him, getting a cry into his mouth.

She stepped from the skirt and did as she wanted to. She heard his muffled cry of surprise as she hopped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. He caught her, this not being new to him, and brought her against him again. She clutched at his shoulders and neck, eyes peeking open when she was swung around.

He left a few things in a drawer in her room when he didn't use all of them. Foresight was serving him well right now as he managed to get them into her bedroom and kick the door closed to keep Bowser from spoiling anything.

She was put down on the bed with more care than she ever had been when she was in this position. She kneeled on the mattress in front of him, hands going for the belt at his waist. “Dear Mr. Jones...” She purred, tongue making its way through the grooves on his stomach. “I believe you're still too overdressed for my liking...”

He exhaled a shuddery breath at how her voice alone could undue another notch to his sanity. He watched her lather his muscles with her mouth, head falling back and eyes sliding closed. Her hand undid the zipper to his slacks and dove past his underwear.

She heard him choke her name, nearly falling on her on the bed, his hips bucking forward. Teeth bit her lip as she stared at her work, watching him move against her hand to match her rhythm. She felt like she had complete control over him as he became unwoven at the seams and it was a head trip to see someone like Charles Jones become a quivering mass for her. Teeth bit her lip as her eyes drifted up. She straightened, arm still moving, as she met parted lips gasping for air.

“I do believe it's my turn, Mr. Jones...” She murmured, aching intensely.

He didn't know how he moved so fast and hoped he hadn't hurt her. In what felt the blink of an eye, she was on her back on the bed, leg curled around his shoulder, with his head in her lap. She cried his name as he simultaneously licked her and pulled her underwear down as far as he could with her legs splayed for easier access.

She wanted to come like this, but she wanted to feel him just as badly. He knew what he was doing, that much was sure, and it was such a difficult toss-up. A hand floated down, hesitant in its journey, before gently grasping hair and tugging his head away. “Ch – Charles...inhaler...and your stuff...” She gasped, shifting back. She struggled to sit up and went to her nightstand just as he moved away for his side and opened the drawer. For safety sake, she inhaled a spritz to keep from having to do so during the act.

He made a mental note to buy a box and keep it here for safety sake later. He had a feeling he would be spending his weekends over here and perhaps a few of his nights as well if Bowser was any consideration. Samara wouldn't want her landlady to keep taking care of him for her, thus he would need provisions from home for future use.

He covered himself and found her avidly watching him from her spot on the bed. She was still up on her elbows, legs ready to accommodate him. The storms in his eyes were second only to hers and he felt like he was stalking prey to devour in the most delicious way as he lowered himself onto the bed over her, watching her as she moved with him.

“Bunty...” He breathed, steadily meeting her eyes, feeling his flush matched hers. His lips slowly touched hers, back arching into her waist. She whimpered a little, dropping onto the bed as he pressed his weight further onto her torso.

'I love you Samara.'

He couldn't say it, but to think it made it feel a tad more realistic. He entered her with the notion in his head, heart stumbling in its feelings despite how fast it was running around. His jaw clenched as he panted, hearing her do the same. She moaned his name and he joined her, the languid way his hips rocked until his blood could take no more.

She fumbled for the inhaler as she felt the signs of the end drawing near. She inhaled once, twice, then nearly broke the plastic as her head ground into the mattress, trying to keep quiet as she came and dug her nails into his back.

He moved faster and faster, arms going around her shoulders for leverage as he pushed himself off the cliff. He jerked forward, burying his face in her neck, name getting past clenched teeth. He panted for air, not moving nor feeling like it. The only time he shifted was to adjust his neck so his forehead rested on hers, eyes closed as he rode everything down with her.

Her lashes fluttered when her eyes opened, finding his glasses still on. Her lips curled slowly, a hand reaching out and plucking them off his nose. She kissed it once, a full-out grin breaking free. “Perhaps you should keep these for Fridays only.” She giggled.

He chuckled and slowly shifted off her. He sat up and took his spectacles, putting them back where they were needed. “With such a reaction, I'm afraid I will be forced to.” He teased with a smirk. He waited until she sat on her legs, a hand going through her hair a few times. “I'm afraid that facial hair will have to wait until the weekend though.”

She gave him a dry look over her glasses before sliding off the mattress, finding a short trail of her clothing to the door. It was too comical and cliche, but she wondered if that was going to be the norm with him. She snatched her bra and shirt off the floor, opening it to find Bowser by the front door and looking her way. “I know, I know Bowser. I'm a horrible owner and I'll get ready right now to take you outside.”

That was his cue to get ready. He hopped off the bed, taking care of the wrapper and paraphernalia in the bathroom trash before putting his underwear back on. His slacks and shirt would suffice for the walk until dinner at least, but he would definitely need more casual clothes stashed at her place somewhere. It was something to discuss on the walk, along with the menu.

“Ready whenever you are Charles.” She announced, head poking out of her room with a pair of jeans and t-shirt. She looked like nothing had happen more moments ago, but such was the allure she gave off. The normalcy of her was beauty in itself.

“I'm also ready.” He replied, fixing the wrists and undoing the buttons. He rolled the sleeves up a little, figuring he'd leave the rest of the suit and pick it up later once they got back. “Perhaps we can discuss what's for dinner on the walk?”

She nodded and opened the door, Bowser yanking the leash and tugging her out the door. “Yes, yes I know. I'm a horrible person and you have to pee. Let's go now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPLOOSH! I'm dead. @q@


	35. please help me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Samara, I want you to look at your left ring finger.” Samantha quietly interjected. She held her own up as well, eyes on it. “I want you to stare hard at that empty space and let your imagination bring you to some point in the future. I want you to feel the weight of a ring on that finger. Does it feel right to you? Does it feel strange? Can you see one on Charles's finger too? Is that a norm you can accept?”

Two months seems like a long time. When she thought to the next two months ahead of them, she couldn't imagine them flying by as much as the last two had. The comfortable routine, the snuggles, the lust, the time together every weekend, the multitude of evening dinners at her place, and the few adventures at his apartment kept her happily busy and occupied. They figured out a way around the whole Friday night raid issue; he would teach that night so she could still be with her friends guilt free and when done, he would stay the night. She didn't mind him watching her play now and he actually had some good advice once she explained how all of her spells worked.

She should've known that it was foolish to think he was above such things. He liked games as well as the next person and even though World of Warquest wasn't his forte as it was hers, the insights he had concerning the numbers on her gear, and the crit count to some spells had her diving into a discussion with him that lasted almost three hours past when they crawled in bed for sleep.

“ _Fire_ _spells_ _do_ _the_ _most_ _damage,_ _correct?_ _”_

“ _Technically._ _But_ _the_ _timing_ _on_ _it_ _is_ _horrible._ _Arcane_ _had_ _a_ _lot_ _of_ _good,_ _quick_ _cast_ _spells_ _that_ _can_ _be_ _just_ _as_ _powerful,_ _as_ _opposed_ _to_ _fire_ _which_ _has_ _the_ _longest_ _I_ _think._ _Frost_ _is_ _somewhere_ _in_ _the_ _middle_ _with_ _a_ _lot_ _of_ _wide_ _ranged,_ _group_ _affected_ _spells._ _Every_ _option_ _has_ _their_ _own_ _pros_ _and_ _cons._ _”_

“ _And_ _I_ _know_ _you've_ _already_ _done_ _extensive_ _research_ _on_ _this._ _I_ _just_ _happened_ _to_ _see_ _a_ _few_ _things_ _that_ _made_ _me_ _curious_ _was_ _all._ _”_

“ _I'm_ _kind_ _of_ _a_ _fan_ _of_ _the_ _arcane_ _really._ _There_ _are_ _so_ _many_ _other_ _options_ _aside_ _just_ _arcane_ _energy_ _spell_ _._ _The_ _invisibility,_ _slow,_ _altering_ _of_ _time,_ _and_ _presence_ _of_ _mind_ _are_ _all_ _great_ _on_ _the_ _enemy._ _Or_ _if_ _I_ _need_ _to_ _nullify_ _my_ _aggro_ _or_ _help_ _the_ _pace_ _of_ _battle,_ _they_ _are_ _extremely_ _great_ _to_ _have._ _”_

“ _Do_ _the_ _other types_ _have_ _any_ _such_ _options?_ _”_

“ _You_ _can_ _use_ _alter_ _time_ _with_ _all_ _types_ _of_ _magic,_ _but_ _the_ _frost_ _style_ _only_ _can_ _be_ _done_ _through_ _an_ _elemental_ _which_ _you_ _have_ _to_ _cast_ _in_ _order_ _to_ _use_ _it._ _Fire_ _is_ _straight_ _mps_ _damage_ _points._ _With_ _raid_ _bosses_ _and_ _dungeons,_ _it's_ _the_ _obvious_ _choice._ _Arcane_ _is_ _probably_ _more_ _player versus player_ _._ _I'm_ _betting_ _frost_ _is_ _set_ _up_ _to_ _handle_ _either_ _or,_ _but_ _the_ _amount_ _of_ _spells_ _you're_ _granted_ _without_ _using_ _your_ _elemental_ _is_ _much_ _less._ _”_

“ _Can_ _you_ _pull_ _up_ _a_ _page_ _detailing_ _all_ _of_ _them?_ _I'm_ _curious_ _as_ _to_ _their_ _attributes..._ _”_

She didn't ever think she'd be geeking out about this with him! It made her so happy to get into mage gear and specs and why she chose a mage over the a monk or a rogue like the others had. He seemed genuinely curious and it added another brick in the house of her love for him.

She initially knew that while she was playing, he watched as a means of entertainment and to see what she was so interested in. This was one of her biggest passions and he became involved to know what she liked. She could still remember the night when his wonder shifted from basic involvement to serious query and that conversation happened.

“ _I'm_ _not_ _looking_ _forward_ _to_ _joining_ _your_ _game_ _Bunty._ _I_ _apologize,_ _but_ _I_ _do_ _too_ _much_ _teaching_ _in_ _order_ _to_ _have_ _that_ _kind_ _of_ _free_ _time_ _on_ _my_ _hands._ _”_

“ _But_ _you'd_ _make_ _a_ _great_ _dps'er!_ _You're_ _so_ _smart_ _and_ _see_ _into_ _so_ _many_ _possibilities!_ _I'm_ _not_ _forcing_ _you_ _to_ _do_ _so,_ _but_ _I_ _think_ _you_ _upped_ _my_ _rotation_ _help_ _by_ _ten_ _percent_ _and_ _that_ _can_ _shave_ _off_ _at_ _least_ _thirty_ _minutes_ _of_ _wrangling_ _a_ _boss!_ _”_

“ _I_ _will_ _find_ _secondhand_ _enjoyment_ _from_ _watching_ _you_ _play,_ _Samara._ _Perhaps_ _we_ _can_ _leave_ _it_ _at_ _that._ _”_

She left it alone, but knowing that he was willing to watch her play only pumped her up for Fridays even more. She ended up giving him a spare key because she didn't like leaving the front door unlocked when she was in the middle of a raid and he ended up waiting outside her door for almost thirty minutes until they could take a break.

Yes...times had settled together quite nicely. Things knit into a fun and amusing pattern between the two of them and she wouldn't have things any other way. She didn't want to change the cooking at her place, the classical music at his, the dog walks, the raid nights, or the weekend cuddles.

But, something started creeping up in her mind. It was unknown for almost a week and a half, but it took shape the more she tried to reach through the blackness and touch it. A tiny notion, one more along the lines of a being of light and shapeless. It was far away, shining amidst the darkness she was swimming through. Her curiosity at being unable to let it be kept her returning to it, especially whenever she was hard at work and he stopped in for business or non-business related things. His presence often instigated the little niggling in the back of her head.

When she did finally figure it out, she had no one to turn to on this. Vikki and Angela didn't have knowledge which she could glean from, and her father would scream bloody murder before going for a shotgun. She took more time than necessary while on the clock to theorize the best person for this and only came up with one person: her mother.

It was almost ten. Too early for lunch, but not far enough into the day where she could leave easily. A finger lightly rubbed her lips, eyes not seeing the screen they were fixed on. A text message to feel out her mother's schedule would be best. Charles had to teach tonight and would be away from her for this evening. She could utilize that time to get the necessary information from a third party who had experience in it, and who would give her non-judgmental advice.

_Mom, are you free tonight for dinner?_

She put the phone down, heaving a sigh in anticipation as she tried to get back to work. Within thirty minutes, a ding sounded and she immediately forgot what she was doing and snatched up the phone.

_I believe your father wanted to do something. Do you want to join us?_

She cringed at the message, skin almost crawling.

_This can't involve dad at all. I don't want him freaking out. Is there any way you can get out of it? I really could use your ear on something that I've been thinking about for over a week now._

_I'm sure that I can tell your father we need some girl time and soothe his tears later with promises of a family outing maybe this weekend or the next if you need to plan. I'd say you could bring Charles with, but I know how that would go._

She grinned, snorting in amusement as she easily imagined the daggers her father and Jay would be glaring across the way the entire time.

_This can't involve Charles. It's actually about him._

_Well I will text you when I've cleared my schedule and you be sure to tell me all about it._

She set the phone down when she finalized everything on her side, feeling much better about herself. There was an outlet that she had within reach and it seemed accessible tonight. She was glad because agonizing over this was starting to irritate her, but she couldn't bring it up to Charles. She had a good feeling how it would go if she broached the topic even a mile away from the actual question in her heart. She knew what his answer would be and it was seriously disheartening and made her lose hope.

She loved him and knew he loved her. While he still hadn't been able to say it, she could tell in his actions, the way he looked at her, the severe consideration toward her over him. It was good enough and she accepted that difficulty he had. She felt she had proved herself enough to hear it, but didn't want to force him to say something he wasn't ready to give. She placated herself by trying to think about what would happen if she found Charles cheating on her with another woman, god forbid, and how quickly she'd be able to get over that to find someone else.

It was safe to say she didn't think it would take anything less than a handful of years minimum.

Every time she thought of what he went through, usually at work and the most inopportune timing, she wanted to straddle his lap in a full body hug and cry for him. She could never imagine being so horrible to him by carelessly tossing away everything he had graciously given her. It was like finding a stray cat who had been so horribly treated on the streets, who had just now allowed her to pet him and come out from under the bed. But, Charles would retreat to the safety of that theoretical bed on occasion as if she struck him for no reason. She could tell whenever she saw the war in his eyes on certain occasions. He always fought with himself and lost.

She sighed and leaned back in the chair, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes. She didn't think this was going to go away until tonight, as it had been taking up increasingly larger amounts of head space. Once the idea finally made itself known, she was now stuck on what to do. There were only two possible outcomes, one positive and the other negative. Not saying anything wouldn't hurt her or Charles in the slightest, although it would aggravate her to no end. She would end up forcing herself to accept the negative and push it months or possibly years down the road...if ever.

A knock on the door sounded and she jumped from her head.

“It's about lunch time Samara. Is there any place you care to go?”

She smiled, said person of her thoughts gracing her with his figure. They made it a daily occurrence to eat lunch together, whether at her choice or his. He always asked an extra twenty minutes early should she decide on the fast food place they both liked in order to beat traffic.

She was hungry, but unable to think of anything specific. The topic of the last few hours had her too distracted to even know that she needed food. “I'll let you pick.” She answered, twirling in the chair to grab her bag. “I don't feel like deciding right now.”

Honestly, as much as she loved being next to him, she really wanted that dinner with her mother to happen more. It was hard and she didn't make much conversation in the car nor at the table they were led to in the restaurant he chose. She felt bad and wanted to say something to alleviate her internal turmoil, but was a little scared to start anything in a public place. This was serious and he would get emotional over it.

She ended up heading back to her office feeling horrible, like she had purposely ignored him the whole time. The kiss she gave was lackluster and she mentally apologized for it, seeing the inquiry in his eyes that he never expressed. She gave him a hug before he could get for his office, squeezing him in apology.

She didn't know how she managed to finish out the last few hours. Lunch added to the mix and she felt terrible and guilty. She wasn't meaning to keep this a secret from him and she was so grateful he didn't pry when she had no answer to give. She didn't know exactly what she would say, nor how to go about doing it.

The day peeled away when it was time to head home and she felt a chunk of stress tear away and disappear.

She accepted the car ride home so that she had more time to get Bowser out before meeting with her mom. They had set up to eat at her place so she didn't waste time on the bus. Plus, with all of the leftovers she had from the times Charles cooked at her place, everything would go bad before she could get to it all.

She bid Charles a good evening and hope for a successful class before exiting the car. She unlocked the door and pulled Bowser into her arms with a sigh, the entrance of the person she needed to confide in not coming fast enough. “I hope I know what I'm doing, Bowser...” She mumbled into his head. She gave his fur a kiss before putting him down and going for his leash.

The walk was short and she wanted to give him more time outside to wear himself out after sitting inside all day, but knew her mother could also entertain him once she came over. Bowser definitely liked playing with Samantha and Samara bet it was because he only ever lived with females. Charles was more laid back than her father, whom probably reminded Bowser more of Marshall than anything.

She was in the middle of hunting through her fridge for the oldest tupperware when a knock sounded. She stood up with a smile and hurried to the door, throwing it open to find her mother standing there. Samara waited long enough for the woman to enter and shut the door behind before giving the woman a hug. “Thanks so much for coming over, mom. I don't know what I would've done without talking to you first for advice.”

“I'm sorry you're having such a hard time sweetie. Should we discuss it over dinner first or do you want to hash it out over the microwave noise?”

“I haven't gotten that far.” Samara admitted with a sheepish grin. She headed back to the fridge and pulled the door open, standing aside to let Samantha see the interior.

Blonde brows went up. “My...that's a lot of food you've been making...”

Samara reached in for something, seeing her mother follow suit a second later. “Actually, Charles comes over a lot to cook instead of us going out to dinner.” Samara admitted, stepping back for the microwave. She deposited everything in a ceramic bowl, covering the dish and setting everything to heat. With nothing else to do, she leaned on the counter, arms crossed. “It's been great. It's been a fast two months and counting, and it just feels normal now. We spend our weekends together, we talk about gaming, we sleep in the same bed a lot of nights, we have lunch together pretty much every workday, we eat dinner together a few nights a week...”

Samantha grinned and wrapped an arm around Samara's shoulders when said person trailed off, eyes idly staring at a low cupboard. “It sounds like you have quite a fun life with Charles, Sam. I'm happy for you.”

Teeth stopped their trek of trying to create puncture marks in her thumb as Samara looked to her mother. “Mom...when did you decide that dad was the one for you?”

Samantha's brows disappeared into her hairline. Her mouth opened to speak, but the microwave dinged and Samara left the hold to swap out containers. It was put in front of one of the bar stools to cool off while they waited on round two to finish. “Well...I'm...not too sure what to say. I didn't think such things would be a topic when I came over.”

Samara looked to the floor, arms going around her waist. “I know it's kind of odd. I've only been technically dating Charles for a handful of months...even though we've worked together for almost two years already. I don't think he ever had a vested interest in me past basic curiosity until about the last six months or so though.”

Samantha grabbed her plate from the microwave and set it next to the bowl. The pair gravitated toward their respective seats and grabbed a utensil. “Did you come to me based off your father and mine's romance history?”

Samara's cheeks tinged, shoulders inching toward her neck a little. “Maybe a little...” She admitted, toying with the vegetables and meat. “You and dad always seem so great together and it's easy for anyone to see how much you two love each other. You've been married for over two decades already and yet you two didn't wait...”

“This is true.” Samantha admitted with a smile. “Your father and I are probably exceptions to whatever rule exists out there.” Samantha took a bite of her meal, using that time to mentally configure her thoughts to what she knew was on Samara's mind. “So...are you hoping that Charles will ask you sometime soon or just want advice that it's a good idea?”

“Actually...I was planning on asking him.”

Samantha's attention jerked to her daughter, brows up.

Samara toyed with her food at that reaction. “I know it's not a society norm, but that's not what I'm actually worried about. I mean...I can't really see him asking me after what happened with his ex-wife. I don't know if you heard anything about what happened years ago -”

“Your father ranted a bit about Charles getting rowdy at the company's New Years party once. I heard he said some things and almost started throwing punches when people tried to get him to calm down.”

She had missed that party because such a scene wasn't her thing. Imaging Charles nearly taking a swing at one of his co-workers didn't sound like him, but neither did any woman cheating on a man like that. Subdued eyes looked to her bowl. “Yea...so...while I want to believe he'd consider marriage, I don't really have hopes for it.”

“Do you love him?”

She nodded. “Absolutely.” She said, voice strong.

“Does he love you?”

Samara's lips tightened. “He...” Her eyes closed. “He hasn't said it, but I know he does. He's never said the words, but he's given the actions a hundred times over. I haven't wanted to talk to him about this because I know it's a painful subject, but I know that his ex-wife has caused him a lot of trauma over the whole thing.” Samara sighed. “I just know that if I ask him, that he'll shoot me down fast. I don't know just what to say. I know it's too soon...”

“Time is a relative concept humans created, Samara.” Samantha answered around a bite. “You wouldn't feel ready to ask Charles for his hand if you weren't sure. I know you've always run more along the lines of emotion than rational thought. You go with your heart more than your head. That's not a bad thing however, so please don't think it is.” Samantha smiled. “I'm pretty sure it's something you got from your father.”

“I definitely got your pragmatic sense to help even that out.” Samara kidded, giggling a little. The weight of the issue returned and she sighed, spoon twirling her food around. “Is it okay to want such a thing mom? It seems like society demands that of people. The next thing you do after you get into a relationship is marriage and then kids. I won't shy away from that part, but Charles and I are already doing so well right now as it is. Should I rock the boat? I'll capsize us for sure.”

“Samara, I want you to look at your left ring finger.” Samantha quietly interjected. She held her own up as well, eyes on it. “I want you to stare hard at that empty space and let your imagination bring you to some point in the future. I want you to feel the weight of a ring on that finger. Does it feel right to you? Does it feel strange? Can you see one on Charles's finger too? Is that a norm you can accept?”

The thin feel of cool metal, warming by the extensive contact with her skin, soon made itself known. She didn't know exactly what the design would look like, but a gold ring slowly fleshed itself out. Her eyes closed as she remembered the long digits on his hand, seeing a wide band cover part of one. Their hands entwined like always with gold catching in the sun and glinting together.

The notion gave her butterflies and she stared giggling.

Samantha smiled, eyes crinkling. “You have your answer then. It's easy to let fear rule our lives and make the decision for us. But, when you throw all of that away and realize what it is that you truly want, your answers will come to you.”

Samara reached over and gave her mother a side hug, eyes tearing. “Marshall...um, my friend...said very similar things to me once too.”

“I took a chance on your father a long time ago and he has never let me down. He has taken good care of my heart, as I have done with his. We've had two beautiful children together and although times were hectic, we got to watch you both grow up to be capable adults. I know you'll make the right decision when the time is right. You'll feel the conviction in your words, as I did when I answered your father. It will feel as normal as saying 'I love you' to him.”

Samara nodded, wiping away the few tears that refused to stay put. “I knew you'd have something productive to add for me mom. I've been stressing over this for over a week and you've helped so much. Thank you.”

“That's what I'm here for sweetie.” Samantha patted her daughter's back lightly, going back to her meal. The next few moments were broken by the sound of metal clinking. “Do you know how you want to approach the topic? If it's going to go as badly as you envision it, you're going to want a private location to discuss it.”

“Yea...” Samara mumbled, lips pursing in though. “It's only the beginning of the week... He has to teach tonight, which is why I can get away with talking to you about this. I think maybe tomorrow since he's free I may try to use that time and think of some angles for when he argues about this.”

Samantha hummed a little in thought. “If he's going to argue, are you sure he's as ready as you are dear? It wouldn't be a good idea for someone who's been divorced to be pushed into marriage again...”

Samara nodded in agreement again. “I know he's scared. I think that's a big part of it.” Teeth bit her lip in hesitation. “I'm not worried about losing him and I think he feels the same. We're both loyal to each other, but I know he's twice as much as I am because of his previous marriage. I wish he were here to show you, mom. He's so gentle and nice and smart and handsome and we have a lot of things in common. It just feels great whenever I'm with him, even when he's in his office across the hall at work.”

Samantha watched her daughter's eyes light up as she described a man she knew well and one Samantha had met a handful of times at parties in the past. She had never disliked Charles despite Samuel's painted picture of his employee. These new aspects helped explain a few questions she had created, but never bothered to address.

“Well, if you're sure that his divorce is the only major contributing factor and without that he'd be willing to marry you, you'd best have your counter arguments ready. I can't imagine someone who went through something like that so willing to try again a second time. Was it traumatic for him?”

“From what I was told, he was cheated on by his ex with his best friend.” Samara felt her shoulders slump a little. She finally gave in and put her face in her hands, feeling a little hopeless. “Am I making a big mistake in wanting this, mom?”

Samantha's arms were around her daughter's shoulders in a heartbeat. “You're just trusting your instincts honey. You want to take a big step with someone who isn't sure. That's a lot to take on, but I know you can do it. From what you told me a few months ago about how hard it was to get him to trust you, this will be even harder than that. You've broken down his walls, but now you have to make sure the rubble is gone for good. That is going to be a tough one, I'll admit.” Samantha's arm clenched in a reassuring squeeze. “If you want this, go at it with all your heart. If you want to marry Charles, you have to make him see through his past into his future that's with you. Believe in yourself; I do.”

She was hugging her mom before she could think about how dangerous the angle was that may throw her right out of the bar stool. “I love you mom!” She managed through tears. “I'm not too sure what I can say that doesn't sound childish, but you've given me so much to think about! Thanks for knowing I can do it; that'll help me out so much. I just need to believe so Charles can too.”

“That's the spirit Samara. Now...maybe we should put this in the microwave and reheat it? I think it tastes better warm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had way too much fun writing the WoW part. I miss that game...  
> Go modern woman! XD


	36. I can't accept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looked away, eyes shunted and his own issue still not resolved. How could they get married when he couldn't even say such important words? How could he say 'I do', when he couldn't even say 'I love you'?!

Days passed since that conversation. Hours were spent thinking up ways to broach the topic and not just blurt it out. She thought that maybe something romantic would be the best way to go, but every time she thought of something and intended on putting those ideas to fruition, she chickened out out of fear of getting shot down.

She wondered if this was what men went through a lot when they worried about the woman they loved not accepting such a tender notion which meant a lot to them.

She wanted to get him flowers since she didn't have a ring. She didn't know what kind he would like, the size of his ring finger, or if he would even wear it. She agonized over such little details, the place and time needing to be perfect, that she knew her anxiety was manifesting itself outward enough for him to take notice. He had yet to say anything, just held her to him in his quiet way of trying to offer support, knowing she'd open up when she was ready.

The problem was, she didn't know when she would be.

Deep down, it wasn't that she was even worried so much about time or place, since she hadn't seen enough romance movies to get images in her head, but it was the fear of rejection that had her often times reaching for her inhaler. In wringing her hands together. In forgetting her work and throwing her face in her hands in front of her computer. In having her stomach in knots and unable to find her appetite whenever they went out for lunch and almost forcing food down. In leaving her work unfinished and pacing in front of the window like a caged animal.

The hours felt like days, ticking so slowly as she trudged through usual work contracts, unable to concentrate for most of it. She almost felt sick to her stomach with worry, but she forced herself to go through it. She didn't think she could take much more of this, but her legs wouldn't bring her from her desk into his office.

A hug would've done wonders for her mood, but she was pushing him away from all of this as much as it was and she felt terrible with it. The last thing he needed was her to not talk to him and she finally shot to her feet, knocking her desk chair back from the force of her movement. She paused at the door, hand hovering inches away from the doorknob, unable to get the final distance. Her fingers were trembling in nerves and she knew she should grab her inhaler just in case things turned sour again. But yesterday, she didn't have the guts to even think about crossing his office over such a topic. This really was progress.

The cold metal shocked her from her head just enough to allow her to open the door and step into the hallway. She blinked in confusion at seeing his door open and knew it was always closed when he was there. Her shoulders slumped, a small amount of adrenaline letting down dishearteningly. She strode into his office to verify he wasn't there and an empty office chair greeted her.

'Great. Just when I finally got the courage to ask!' She took a step into the room and leaned on the doorway, arms crossing as she stared at his desk. 'Just where did he go to?' She heaved a sigh, finger tapping on an arm and wondering just how long she was going to need to wait before she chickened out and scurried back to her office. Her brows furrowed a little, lips pursing. 'Maybe I shouldn't bother standing here. If he has a meeting, it could take a while...'

She turned and screeched at finding a suit directly in front of her.

A hand went to her chest, rapid breathing making her wish she had grabbed her medicine like a smart person. Wide brown took in befuddled blue, suddenly zooming in on a small stack of papers he must've grabbed from the copier. 'Ah...That makes sense...' Her heart picked up speed at the original reason she intended on coming here. She harshly swallowed, shaking all over again at being in front of him.

“Samara, is there something wrong? Why are you hovering outside of my office? Can I help you with something?”

Her arms tightly crossed around the blouse she had on, teeth biting a lip. 'Do it! You've been wanting to do this for a while now! You won't really know unless you bring it up. It's now or never. Damned be the scenario.'

“Ch...Charles...can I take up a few minutes of your time? It's...it's kind of important...”

The way she was reverting to her original, unsure form in front of him, he knew it was serious. Something old and paranoid roused from its deep sleep, unable to be killed off entirely by her nearness and love, and started taking hold of him. A hand waved to the interior of his office, trying to be optimistic. “Please Samara. Take a chair.”

She didn't want to sit so far away from him or she would probably lose the ability to do this. She waited until he was in his spot before dragging a chair around his desk until she touched knees with his. Her lips tightened for a moment, shoulders squared and tense, before she reached out and tightly threaded her fingers in his.

He had been concerned for days now, but he was trying to be patient. She didn't seem to be doing it on purpose, but it seemed to have to do with him. As was indication of the times she would get openly nervous and start stuttering in his presence all over again. He didn't know what was going on in her head and wished she would tell him, but he knew pushing her never got him anywhere. She had done very well in the last few months, but whatever she was pondering must have been major if it knocked the foundation out of all his hard work.

Teeth bit her lip as she met his eyes, brow up in uncertainty. She feared her nails were digging into his palms, but he said nothing about it. He looked calm and collected as always, totally opposite of how torn apart she was.

Every fiber in her being just told her to spit it out. Just say those two words that was the entire subject of the conversation. It was a three word setup, two word question and one word answer. That's all it was, but it was so much more complex than that. “Charles!” She blurted out, eyes widening a little bit.

He gave an encouraging smile, leaning on his elbows over his legs as she already was. He could tell something in earnest was bubbling out of her like a pressure cooker ready to blow, as she always did when she was unsure of something she figured would have a big impact on him. “Yes Bunty?” He asked, head tilting to the side a little. His eyebrows rose a little when she didn't say a word. “Is this going to be a trend for the next ten minutes? I've got a few meetings scheduled today...”

She looked down, eyes darting around the area surrounding him. “I -” The pent up air left in a whoosh. Anxiety poured from her eyes before they landed on his, attempting to leech into his. “I'm scared.” She admitted, hands still shaking.

His head tilted to the side. “Of what?” His thumbs slowly massaged over her hands to comfort her.

Shoulders hunched to her ears, eyes moving from his to their hands. “Of...you... Of what you'll say.”

He sat forward a little more and brought her fingers to his lips. “I don't know what's going on in your mind Samara, but I will never say anything to hurt you.”

He seemed so sincere, but she knew the second she said the words he would pause and probably take back that phrase. “Charles...I...I've been thinking and...I know it's going to sound odd when I say this, but it just feels like I can do so. It's...right.” Her brows knitted together. “That sounded weird, I know. I'm sorry that I don't make any sense.” Her eyes jerked up to his, feeling like a child asking for an expensive toy and knowing she probably wouldn't get it. “Charles...would you...” Her lips pressed together. “M...” She looked down. “Marry me?”

He had worried that she wanted to call things off for whatever reason was hidden in her head. Her hesitation and anxiousness was getting to him despite how positive he was trying to be to help her. He didn't know what she was going through, but the second those words left her mouth, everything in him stilled. The smile on his face melted off, eyes slowly widening on their own after a moment. He could feel his lips part as his jaw slackened, but his hands and legs disappeared somewhere, even though his skin could clearly feel hers touching his.

“I know it's a horrible place and time to do that!” She rambled, seeing his look of utter shock. “I'm sorry that I asked like this!” She pushed the chair out, using the space to go down on her knees and using his legs as a stabilizer so she didn't fall over in the pencil skirt she had on. “Usually it's the guy that asks the girl right?! He's supposed to get down on one knee right?! I can't really do that in this skirt though...” She looked to the slackened hands in hers, worried the longer he was silent. Imploring brown searched out blue, not seeing a change in his expression. “I...I was thinking about this for a while now and yet I couldn't find the courage to come and ask you. I'm sorry if I treated you badly without knowing it; I was just scared. I -” Her eyes fell yet again. “I worried that I already knew what your answer was. But I had to try. I know we've only been dating for a few months, but I feel like those things don't matter! I've known you for a long time Charles and I'd like to marry you...um...if that's okay with you that is...”

He stared at her, but couldn't get his brain to work. It was like it had been wiped clean. He couldn't get his arms to work to bring her close and spout reassurances to calm her.

'Marry...me? Her?! She...she wants to...'

His lips parted to say something, anything, but failed. Never before could he find himself at such a loss for words except the day that she told him she loved him.

Oh...that's right...

He looked away, eyes shunted and his own issue still not resolved. How could they get married when he couldn't even say such important words? How could he say 'I do', when he couldn't even say 'I love you'?!

His eyes closed in regret as he looked to the side, more for his own ineptitude than to deny her the request she needed an answer for. “Samara...” He sighed, unable to collect his thoughts to form coherent sentences that waxed poetic or intellect. “I...don't know what to say...”

The subdued tone brought a clench in her chest that made breathing a chore. Like a vice of a different kind wrapping itself around her ribcage as a python ready to strangle her. The feeling was very similar to an attack, but she was still able to breathe okay. For now.

She harshly swallowed, lips pressed together at how serious he was. “I'm sorry to spring this on you...” She mumbled, shifting back to rest on her heels. Her hands slid from his and fell into her lap. “I just don't see what the point in waiting is all about. We've known each other for over a year and have been seriously dating for over two so far. Isn't that enough by some kind of standard? We partially live with each other as it is. You even have a key to my apartment. I don't know what else there is.”

“It's not that Samara.” He murmured, head slowly shaking. “I'm afraid...I can't give you the answer you're looking for. I'm sorry.”

She knew this. She had already foreseen it because she knew him. She knew of his past enough to know that this subject would be a horrible one for him. He hadn't dealt with his ex-wife and it still ruled him by the chain she took out of his pocket not that long ago.

“ _Well,_ _if_ _you're_ _sure_ _that_ _his_ _divorce_ _is_ _the_ _only_ _major_ _contributing_ _factor_ _and_ _without_ _that_ _he'd_ _be_ _willing_ _to_ _marry_ _you,_ _you'd_ _best_ _have_ _your_ _counter_ _arguments_ _ready._ _You've broken down his walls, but now you have to make sure the rubble is gone for good. That is going to be a tough one, I'll admit.”_

Her mom was one hundred percent right. She couldn't think of one good thing to argue against his final words. She stared at him, meeting his sad gaze and trying to shut her brain down. 'Don't think was it?'

“Charles, I love you.” She nearly whispered, sitting up on her knees again. “I didn't know that love could be this deep or this great. Life with you is fantastic. You've helped me so much. I don't want to go anywhere or be with anyone else. I can't envision being by the side of anyone but you. I'm not going anywhere and I know you don't want to either. I guess I don't really know everything that happened aside what little I got from Umed, but I'm not really interested in that. I feel like I know you really well, but I want to keep knowing more of you. There's so much that I let pass me by during that first year we worked together. I want to make up for lost time and be sure I'm with you every second of the rest of my life. That's why I want to marry you. It feels right to do so. I know it's hard for you. I was really frightened of what you'd say. I kind of guessed that would be your answer though.” Teeth bit her lip, eyes shimmering. “I just wish...maybe think about it? Please don't think of the time that is required of us to know each other. I made this decision based on how I feel. I was told multiple times that when I stopped thinking and let my heart take over that I would find an answer. My answer is to devote the rest of my life with you at my side.”

The air left him in a whoosh, tears falling when his eyes closed. A hand quickly went over his face, but the tracks were still there and she had seen them fall already. He tried to inhale, but it was shaky and the adrenaline from her speech had his hands shaking and his heart pounding.

She stood and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, head on his back. He shifted and latched onto her waist, pulling her into his lap as he clutched at her and buried his face in her shoulder. He tried to find stability in the tightness of her hold, but he only mentally cursed his idiocy. A goddess sat before him, willing to give him everything with no restraints and yet he didn't have the guts to take her outstretched hand. He was still quivering up against the wall in fear, even though she had rebuilt those walls with her love.

“I'm sorry...I didn't mean to make you cry.” She breathed, feeling his tears wet her shirt. Her fingers gripped his suit jacket, her own tracks halfway down her cheeks. “I love you. I'm not trying to change things for the worse. I just wanted it to be better.”

He tried to calm down, really he did. He didn't want to make her more distraught than she already was over this, but the whole thing kept hitting him over and over. Every time he thought he might be able to release her and dry his eyes, her words echoed in his head and it began anew. It was like a horribly looped record, always on repeat the second it finished tormenting him.

Her hand brushed through his hair, worried that this would be too much for him to accept. Would he actually be able to ever give her an answer? She thought she had been the broken one, but it turned out he was just very good at hiding his pain. Much more than she was ever able to. A hand rose to her cheeks, wiping them dry and sitting back.

“Charles...” She murmured, detangling from him enough to get him to look at her. A hand rose and wiped the tracks on his face, pausing when his cheek tilted into her hand. Her other hand rose and cupped the other side, tilting his face to hers. She kissed his lips lightly, briefly, before letting go and resting her forehead on his. “Please forget what I said Charles. I don't want you to suffer like this just because I wanted an answer. Don't feel like you need to ever say anything back. I'll take your apology as your decision.” Her lips rose and rested on his forehead. “I love you. I don't want to make you sad. I'm sorry for springing this on you at work. I acted foolishly without thinking of the consequences.” Her arms wrapped around his head, resting his ear over her heart. “I'm sorry...”

He heaved a sigh, mentally berating himself for getting her hopes up to whatever that was and crashing them down with no safe haven to fall to.

It would've been so much better to have the ability to accept her, but his past was ruling his life still. It had been enough to merely be with her and let her wrap her arms around him. She accepted him, faults and all, but he couldn't. He wasn't okay with this and while she had told him time and time again, this one thing was impossible to change. It was almost a physical weight on his tongue that kept him from forming words which his heart so desperately wanted to scream at her. If it could be in charge for a day, he knew that he would sing song after song dedicated to her beauty and grace and leave nothing out. He would find all of the little details that made up her personae and hang them all in the sunlight for all to see.

“I apologize for my ineptitude Samara...” He mumbled, leeching strength in her hold. “I'm sorry for my inability to give you the words you seek.”

“I already knew that Charles. It's why I didn't want to ask you in the first place. But, I knew that I wouldn't ever know if I didn't say anything.” She pulled back and forced a smile, thumbs idly wiping at his cheeks. “I'm sorry for being a nervous wreck all week long. I didn't want to hide this from you. Even if I did, you'd know, right? Because I'm a horrible liar.”

She was trying to be funny, trying to lighten the mood and make him feel better. Those three words ran from his heart up his throat, but hitting the invisible wall that was his head before anything could be said. He could only smile and loosen his hold before he hurt her, hoping he hadn't done so yet. His hand snaked up her back, pressing her head down. She went willingly and he kissed her with all of the love he couldn't express, apologizing to her in his head.

“I...should let you get back to work.” She looked away, shuffling from his legs. “At least give you some time to mentally get back in the office.” She busied herself with the chair, pushing it where it had sat all day before she messed with it. She used the desk as a barrier between them, sadly feeling a tad better when it divided them just a little. “I'll stop back in at lunch and see if you want to go to our usual. I understand if you need to catch up though. Just think about it. I know you're...probably not hungry right now...” Fingers twiddling around each other, she shuffled to the door and jumped when she bumped into it. “I guess I should get back to work myself.”

She waved and scurried out, trying to slam the door in her need to get away from the tension she had created. She slumped against his door, head lightly thumping it for a second. Despondent eyes looked into her office, shoulders falling, hands dead at her sides.

She heaved a sigh, telling herself to accept this. It hurt, yes. That was a given. She knew and yet hoped anyway. She had her answer and needed to respect his decision, whether it was pushed along by false fear or not.

Somewhere in the back of her head, logic was telling her that Lucy could still see her and if she wanted to make a scene, inside her office with the door shut was probably the better idea. It helped make her legs cross the short hallway, to make her hand move and click the lock back in place. She stared at the wood, not really feeling like being productive right now. It took a few orderings to even get her back to her desk.

'Well...I guess that's it then...'

She had told him to think about it, but it was better if he didn't. She didn't want to get her hopes up...probably shouldn't. She didn't want it to drive a wedge in between them. She had asked and he had answered, like it or not. She had done all she could and should be proud of herself that she took the initiative to do such a big thing. She could have just ignored her feelings and buried them or written them off and not been honest. It might have created a situation and made him cry, but she hoped he would see a little more how serious she was about him.

At length she twirled in her chair for her bag and grabbed her phone. She unlocked it and opened up her texts.

_Well...I guess I'm not much good at arguing mom. I got my answer and it's a no._

She stared at the phone, almost wishing her mother was available for coddling as she had done to Charles. She needed a little comfort, but definitely couldn't go to her father for it. The man would either attempt to throttle Charles for not wanting to marry her...but also wanting to because she had asked him to. None of her friends knew a thing that was going on again and she felt a little bad at not including them in her thought process, but this was more up her mother's alley anyway.

Her phone suddenly started vibrating.

She jumped and dropped it on the floor, hand diving under her desk in prayer that she didn't hang up on whoever it was. She got a second glimpse of the name, figured the timing could only point to one person. 'Mom' was on the screen and she immediately connected the call.

“Oh honey, I'm so sorry...”

The sympathetic tone was what her heart needed and a layer of anxiety peeled away. “Hi mom...” She mumbled, finger tapping on the armrest.

“What happened?”

She gave as many details as she could, going all the way back from the day after their conversation up until when she sent the message. “I told him to think about it, but I'm just telling myself to accept what I got as the end result.” She glumly concluded, wanting to curl up on her office couch with a blanket.

“Oh honey...don't give up. Keep hope that Charles will change his mind.” Samantha gently urged. “You knew this was going to be hard. Marriage is a lot of work, even though it sounds like a great fairytale ending. There are so many more ups and downs that you can't imagine yet. If you lose hope now, what is gonna happen when those hard times come upon you two?”

“Yea...you're right mom. I love Charles and I know that he loves me. Even if he hasn't said it yet.”

Samantha's brows went up. “Still?”

“I think it might be related to his ex-wife. At this point, I'd call it a phobia.” Samara guessed.

Samantha gave a non-committal hum at that. “Do you want to meet for lunch and just get together? It's in another hour or so.”

“I told Charles we should have lunch. I don't want what I said to cause any issues between us. I don't want to be awkward around him even though I asked him to marry me.”

“Good for you dear. Well...I should let you get back to work then. I love you.”

“I love you too, mom.”

Once the phone clicked off, Samantha pulled up her contacts list and dialed the front desk of her husband's company, a number she knew by heart. She waited for Lucy to finish her introduction, lips tilting at how it hadn't changed. “Good afternoon Lucy, this is Samantha Young.”

“Good afternoon Mrs. Young. I can page your husband for you if you can hold...”

“Oh I'm not calling to talk to him.” She responded. Green eyes looked to well-manicured nails. “Can you pull up Charles Jones's schedule and tell me when his next hour availability is? Within the next day or two.”

There was the sound of quiet typing and mouse clicking, a thoughtful hum accompanying it. “I think he's got an hour around nine-thirty tomorrow morning. Do you need to schedule a meeting with him?”

“Yes I do.” Samantha responded, slowly crossing the carpet of her house. “Put me down for an hour and a half though please. Just in case this goes over.”

“Is something wrong Mrs. Young?”

Green eyes turned a little sharp, motherly instincts running on overtime. “I need to talk some sense into the young man. I'm sure you know how it is, Lucy.”

“Unfortunately, I do Mrs. Young. I've got you set up for nine-thirty until eleven tomorrow. Do you want me to make sure there's a meeting room away from Mr. Young's office so he doesn't burst in and see you?”

“Can you write down the address I'm going to give you in a second and pass it to him? I'd like to meet off site so my husband doesn't interfere. I'm sure you know how that goes as well...”

“I do. I'm ready when you are.”

Samantha gave the future location and bid Lucy a good rest of the afternoon before hanging up the phone. She stared at her phone log, eyes locked on her daughter's name. She sighed a little before turning the screen off. “Charles you silly, silly man... I hope you have a good reason for refusing my daughter's hand in marriage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::passes the kleenex::


	37. heart to heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His chest heaved, eyes watering as they darted around the table. His arms trembled a little as he tried to gain control of himself, but the vision was in his head. It lodged itself in his heart, expanding to dangerous portions. He lost everyone around him, Samantha included, as he tried to come back to the outside world.

“ _Charles._ _Before_ _you_ _go,_ _there_ _was_ _a_ _sudden_ _appointment_ _tomorrow_ _that_ _I_ _think_ _you'll_ _want_ _to_ _know_ _about._ _”_

_He_ _stopped_ _at_ _the_ _front_ _desk,_ _looking_ _to_ _Samara._ _His_ _hand_ _stuck_ _out_ _to_ _a_ _small,_ _folded_ _note_ _hovering_ _over_ _the_ _tall_ _area._ _He_ _took_ _it_ _and_ _saw_ _an_ _address_ _and_ _time_ _written_ _down._ _A_ _brow_ _rose_ _as_ _he_ _looked_ _Lucy's_ _way._ _“_ _What_ _company_ _is_ _this_ _for?_ _”_

“ _It's...um...a_ _private_ _venture._ _”_ _Lucy's_ _eyes_ _shifted_ _between_ _Charles's_ _and_ _Samara's._ _“_ _I_ _can't_ _really_ _say_ _much...um,_ _right_ _now...but_ _just_ _be_ _sure_ _to_ _dress_ _up,_ _okay?_ _I_ _think_ _you're_ _going_ _to_ _want_ _to_ _go_ _full_ _suit._ _”_

He straightened the tie, quietly sliding the jacket over a white dress shirt. Hands went and did the buttons to the navy suit he picked out. Once on, hands went and slicked his hair back to its usual business coif, adding a little product to make sure it stayed that way.

Lucy's attitude before he left had him curious, but he could tell since she wouldn't say anything in front of Samara that it must involve her. He thought perhaps a company that knew of her work wanted to talk to him, but Lucy was hesitant to mention it to Samara. That was all he could hypothesize.

He grabbed the briefcase from its usual resting spot in his room and headed to the lower level. Breakfast was done and his dishes taken care of. The silence was fairly oppressive and the place felt like a coffin. He had said good night to Samara without bothering to stay at her place or have her pick Bowser up for his. It felt like old times and he didn't like it, but he felt guilty for what happened yesterday and couldn't bring himself to impose on her. Even when she offered.

“ _You_ _can_ _stay._ _I_ _don't_ _mind._ _You_ _have_ _a_ _few_ _spare_ _suits_ _here_ _now,_ _so_ _you_ _don't_ _need_ _to_ _leave_ _early_ _and_ _head_ _back_ _to_ _your_ _place_ _for_ _them._ _”_

“ _I'm_ _sorry_ _about_ _this_ _afternoon._ _It_ _feels...off_ _to_ _stay_ _now._ _”_

“ _But,_ _I've_ _been_ _trying_ _all_ _afternoon_ _to_ _keep_ _things_ _from_ _being_ _awkward!_ _”_

“ _I_ _know_ _Bunty._ _It's_ _not_ _you._ _It's_ _me._ _”_

He scoffed and covered his face with a hand. 'Idiot. What are you doing...'

What WAS he doing?! A beautiful woman who had talent, intelligence, refreshing childish interests, the faith of Job, and patience of a saint who just asked him to marry her! He was an absolute fool to refuse her hand and yet she was still offering to clasp his regardless. Part of him wanted to step outside himself to slap himself on the head with his briefcase.

The hurt, teenage side of him who was making all of these decisions needed to have its eyes opened and yet he couldn't manage to shove it aside for the life of him. It was going to screw up his life and he didn't know how to make it go away so it didn't cause him to sour probably the one good bit of happiness to come his way in years.

He put the briefcase in the backseat and got in the driver's side. He heaved a sigh and started the car, backing out once his belt was on. “All you had to do was say yes, you idiot...” He mumbled, heading out of the garage. “What the hell are you still scared of?”

Wasn't that the million dollar question? All of that was obvious as well. It had scarred him more than he ever thought it would, but Gwen was his first love and had he ever dated more in high school, he probably would have never gone down the path he did. He would've never gotten married to a girl who ended up not knowing what she wanted in life. He wouldn't have had to experience a pain so long-lasting and never-ending that he probably would've dated more.

He also wouldn't be here in California with a better marriage proposal either.

Fate had a cruel sense of humor. He didn't know whether to be thankful to it or hate it. It was a horrible, stony road he was treading on with damaged feet. Every step hurt so much, but the farther down the road he got, the smoother the rocks were getting. It was either becoming more bearable to walk down, or his feet were just numb to all pain that he didn't feel it anymore. He honestly didn't know which one it was and sometimes it seemed like, despite Samara's best intentions, he was just numb to things until she ripped the bandage off and made his eyes water.

He sighed and leaned his head back against the headrest when he came to a red light. He was probably going to kick himself about being so dumb over the whole thing for the rest of the week. What he needed to do was be honest with Samara and tell her everything. She had overcome such an obstacle; it was high time he follow her lead and do the same.

The fear of losing her to the things he was ruled by was the only thing stopping him. She had shown him and told him many times over that she wasn't going to leave after everything he threw at her, after all that came between them. She wanted him and he knew it would be okay, but that day in his bedroom still made him pause at the ending flag.

He needed to tell her. Today. It wouldn't be that big of a deal, although he would make it a point to wait until after work for more privacy...maybe at her place if he was so lucky. Considering he was allowed to stay after all he didn't say, it gave him hope.

He parked the car in his usual spot at Young Technologies, grabbing his briefcase before he locked it. The place was still fairly empty, as he made it a point to come exceedingly early to catch up on all the things he shoved aside for at least a good hour after she left his office yesterday and couldn't focus. He needed to go over some things, to get ahead, since the loss of his morning ability to get into it was now to be spent in a mysterious meeting with someone he didn't know of yet.

He set his briefcase down and grabbed the folded paper with the address Lucy had written down for him. He typed it into the search bar and his brows went up as he found what it was. It was slightly pricy, although he could easily afford it. He wondered about the customer base he was meeting that had chosen such a common, normal location. He surfed through the pictures other customers had placed to acquaint himself with the interior. It seemed like a basic chain that he and Samara might go to on a weekend trip out.

He looked at the time on the paper. It was right around the usual breakfast hour and he surmised it was such a meeting, so he hadn't eaten anything yet. He seriously hoped the other party would be ordering food or he was going to take something to go by the time the whole thing was over!

With nothing else to do for a good hour until he needed to leave, he dove into the pile of things he hadn't finished yesterday and got a good chunk of the way through. He would've kept going had a knock on his door not interrupted him from his reading.

“Knock, knock. Morning Charles.”

Ah...his songbird. He sat back with a smile, fingers rubbing his sore eyes. “Good morning Bunty. Is that coffee I can smell all the way over here?”

She giggled a little and closed the door, bringing in the four-pack carrier with hers also snuggled next to his. “Your nose is getting good Mr. Jones.” She sat on the edge of his desk, brows furrowed a little as he massaged his face. “Are you okay?”

“My eyes are just strained Samara. Thank you for your concern, though.” He immediately moved his hand away and looked up at her, blue moving to the cup suddenly placed in between them for him to take. He did so and held it up in thanks. “Shouldn't I have bought that for you as penance for yesterday?”

She sighed and put the coffee down, taking what he still held and putting it on the desk next to hers. She sat in his lap, arms immediately going around him. “I didn't buy you coffee for any other reason than I wanted to.” She murmured, lips near his temple. “I'm over yesterday, so please don't worry about it. I've resolved to move on. It's okay.”

No it wasn't! He pulled away from her, directing perturbed blue her way. Kind brown met him back and his hand rose, thumb stroking a cheek. “Bunty...you -”

A loud knock on the door caused them both to jump and Samara to bang her knee on his desk. She cried out in pain, hands rubbing the spot as the door opened. “Charles! You needed to have left five minutes ago! Oh...am I interrupting something?”

He looked over Samara's hunched form taking up his legs to Lucy's evil grin. “No. You weren't. Thank you for the head's up. I'll be on my way once I know that Miss Young is no longer in pain.”

“Oh dear. What happened?”

“It's...nothing Lucy...” Samara grit out, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I shouldn't have sat so close to Charles's desk like that.” Clearing her throat and telling herself to stop being a wuss, she slid from his lap and picked up her coffee. “I forgot about your meeting. I didn't mean to keep you. I hope you'll make it in time.” She shuffled around the desk again, face red at the situation. She bumped into Lucy who hadn't moved from her perch in the doorway and yelped. “Goodness Lucy! You're going for a record this morning!”

Lucy smiled and stepped out of the way. “Sorry Sam. I didn't mean to. Why don't we leave Charles to his meeting so he can get back sooner and then you two can go to lunch.”

Lucy shut the door behind her and their muffled voices quickly dissipated as he stood and grabbed his jacket. He went for the briefcase and made sure the address was inside before heading out. He opened the door to find Samara still nearby and his head turned. “I apologize Samara, but I must get going. If there was something you needed, it'll have to wait until I am back for lunch. Perhaps think of where you'd like to go today.”

She smiled and took a step forward, hands on his lapels to pull him down. She gave him a quick peck before stepping into her office. “That was all I wanted. Good luck at the meeting.”

Her thumb's up was the last he saw before she closed the door with a quiet click. He was thankful she was gone quickly because he heard Lucy's quiet gushing from her visible spot down the hall and his face heated notably. A hand covered his face as he headed down the hallway, feeling slightly giddy in his steps.

“Have a good meeting Charles.” Lucy's voice dripped with a grin. “You got your good luck charm to keep you through after all.”

He gave Lucy a dry look, but it was hard with the smile on his face. “Hold my calls until I return or pass them to Samara.” He merely reported, heading back for his car. He tossed the briefcase on the front seat, a happy chuckle leaving him at seeing how adorable she had been in those last few seconds. He shook his head with a joyful sigh, almost forgetting his seatbelt in the memory that stayed with him at least three blocks away from the building.

The curiosity of whom he was going to meet quickly overrode that beautiful smile and soft lips as he got closer. He hated that he was nearly ten minutes late, not figuring traffic would be so bad with most normal nine-to-five workers already in their buildings. He parked the car and hurried to the front, looking around as if knowing who was going to be awaiting him.

“Good morning. Can I help you sir?”

His attention whipped to a server who suddenly appeared. He nodded. “Yes. I'm here to meet someone for a meeting. Um...unfortunately I don't have any more information than that.”

“Can I get your name, sir?”

“Charles Jones.”

“Oh yes. She's already here and expecting you.”

'She'?! A brow rose as he followed the server, stopping dead in his tracks the moment he saw Samantha Jones a few tables away for two. She was sipping something from a cup, eyes lighting up once they locked with his. She waved a greeting and it forced his feet to move until he finally arrived at the table. “Mrs. Young...you're my nine-thirty?”

“Good morning Charles. You look very nice. Please take a seat.”

He did and looked at the table and its quaint setup. “I don't see a second chair. I assume your husband isn't joining us today?”

“Samuel doesn't know I'm here.” Samantha responded, resting her elbows on the table so she could use cross her fingers and rest her chin on them. “I thought we could have a little heart-to-heart over breakfast. I hope you haven't eaten this morning yet. I know I'm famished.”

He accepted a menu, nodding his thanks. He idly looked to it, vision jerking up to Samantha's as she focused on the morning section. “Might I ask what this is all about?”

“Later dear. First is food.” Samantha's eyes suddenly met his. “Oh, but I went ahead and ordered something to drink. I needed a little caffeine. You understand.”

He nodded, going back to finding something amongst the plethora of choices. “I was given some this morning as well. No offense taken.”

“By Sam?”

His gaze jerked to hers, though Samantha's was still on the menu. “Yes. How did you know?”

Samantha smiled. “My baby likes to do things for others to show she cares. I think she gets that from me and Samuel.”

The basic, polite conversation had his hackles up and it was off-setting him when she wasn't saying anything aside small talk. He could very well fathom why he was here and the anxiety of the conversation that he surmised was to happen sat in a ball in his chest and almost took his appetite away.

He finally put the menu down, looking as somber as he felt. “Mrs. Young -”

“Just call me Samantha, Charles.”

“Samantha...I know what this is about and we don't need to discuss such things over a meal.”

“Do you now?” She asked, lips tilting again.

A brow went up, feeling upturned again. “I assume this is about yesterday. I can imagine that Samara would have discussed that with you?”

“She did. But it's not what you're thinking.” Samantha finally looked away from the menu to the waitress who had appeared at their sides. “I'm ready to order.” Green looked his way. “How about you?”

He scrambled to the choices as she spouted off everything she wanted, feeling oddly flustered and childlike for some reason. He decided on an omelet to keep things clean and not worry about spilling anything on his suit. He gave his order and handed the menu over, looking across the table now that they were alone again. “What do you mean? I thought you were here to admonish me for what I said yesterday.”

“Yes and no.” Samantha airily replied. She took a sip of what looked like tea before bothering to give him her attention. “I came for details.”

A brow went up. “Details? More than whatever she said already?”

Samantha smiled, cradling the steaming cup in her fingers. “Samara didn't give me much to go by. We had a discussion long before she found the courage to step up and ask you for your hand. I also heard some things from Samuel at a certain New Year's party a while ago. I can imagine a few things, but I thought I'd meet with you and get them from you personally.”

His jaw clenched a little and he looked to the glass of water that was suddenly set before him, the sound of coffee pouring for a second before the waitress put the cup next to him. He quickly requested cream before the woman headed off again. He sighed a little, watching the steam rise. “I'm...not too sure what you're expecting Samantha. I don't know why you've called me here.”

“I wanted to make sure of something.” Samantha replied. “I've got questions, but I can think of the answers so long as you give me the missing details to the puzzle.”

A hand rubbed over his face, arm moving out of the way when the small cup was set nearby. He nodded his thanks and poured a generous helping into his coffee. “Please enlighten me Samantha. I'm beyond confused at this point.”

“You seem happy, Charles. I'm glad. I was worried that you'd be more shaken up after yesterday. Has Sam been doing okay too? My baby girl isn't one to keep a grudge or confrontation going between someone. I imagine she must've made things right already.”

He wished she would get to the point because he felt his head was going to explode with how she was pulling him in all different directions! “That's correct. Samara holds no ill will toward my decision and although I don't like it, she told me just before I left that she was over things and resolved to move on.”

“Why don't you like it? It's her decision.”

“She shouldn't be so carefree about such a thing!” He burst out, his earlier frustration getting the better of him. “I've watched her grow over the months before we turned serious about each other and I was so proud of how well she had done. To know that she overcame a fear at knowing my answer before she even asked and came into my office to ask it anyway is amazing. I'm still astonished to think of the scenario from an outsider's perspective!” He suddenly cleared his throat and went for his coffee to calm down before he made a scene in the restaurant.

Samantha's gaze never left. She propped her head up on her hand, free one slowly stirring the black tea and milk in front of her. “So...do you want her to be mad at you for denying her hand in marriage? Is that what I'm hearing?”

“It would be easier to bear if she was.” He mumbled, face falling a little. Yesterday washed over him and he sighed again. “I've never been so blessed to have such an amazing woman in my life and I don't know what I did to deserve her. I still don't deserve her and yet she is still willing to stay at my side.”

“Is this why you haven't said you love her yet?”

Shocked eyes jolted to hers, finding clear green meeting his. Samantha smiled a little, an almost knowing look on her face. “She said so?”

Samantha sighed a little and finally rose the teacup to her lips. She took a sip while phrasing the words she wanted to keep getting the information she needed. “I heard mention of it, but I can figure out the reason. What I want to hear from you is the words. You're not in front of her, but it's clear you do.” Aged green looked his way. “Is that so difficult? After finding someone who refuses to leave your side after everything you threw at her? After all you went through, you have someone who can give you what you've always lacked.”

He harshly swallowed, feeling his stomach plummet through the floor. He stared at the liquid that was going cold in front of him, but he felt in no mood to partake. His mouth seemed to clamp shut, even though Samara was nowhere nearby.

She could tell the war on his face and felt sorry for him. He looked lost and childlike sitting at the table with her. “Can you at least admit it to yourself?”

“Yes.” He nearly breathed, putting his face in his hands. He harshly scrubbed a few times before clasping his fingers together and resting a very tired head on them.

Samantha smiled. “I suppose that's a step in the right direction and good progress. Can you at least tell me what has you so scared to say it back?”

He looked to the table, attention suddenly locking on a body nearing them. He sat back as the plate was put in front of him with warning to the hot temperature. He could only nod in thanks again, head too muddled to form proper words. His elbows went around the steaming porcelain, face going back in his hands with a sigh. “I...hate myself for not being able to say it.” He glumly admitted. “I want to; every fiber of me demands I say it back. She deserves it. She always has. She says she can tell in the things that I do, but to me it's not enough. And yet I'm shackled by one stupid instance that is still ruling my life.”

“That is a tricky one.” She quietly agreed, picking up a knife and fork. She cut up the french toast and put a piece in her mouth to let the tension dissipate a little. “Do you feel that she's helped you overcome that...even a little?”

“She has done an amazing job.” He looked to the plate, still not feeling like touching it. “I've never felt more free than I have these past few months. She has proven what I was always afraid of and the more time passes with her, the less I feel that she'll change her mind.”

“Perhaps you should dig into that omelet instead of just staring at it.” Samantha mused, picking up a piece of bacon.

He nodded, hands slow to her command. It tasted good, but it was still like trying to hear under water, muted to his tongue and not as clear on the flavor had he been in a better mood. He forced a few bites down before his stomach took precedence and demanded satiation for nothing in the last twelve hours or so.

“Are you worried that it's too soon?” Samantha asked, head tilting.

His lips tightened a little as he honestly pondered that question. “Time doesn't mean much.” He confessed. “I've already known her for around two years. I knew Gwen for much more before I asked for her hand. Societal norms mean little to me in that regard.”

“Were you just surprised that she beat you to it then?”

He gave her a dry look at the teasing tone in her voice. “I'm all for equality of the sexes Samantha. It was not a race to see who would propose to each other first.”

Samantha laughed a little. “So then...have you ever thought of doing so yourself?”

He hadn't. He was just happy to be with her and know she would stay by his side. Was a ring really necessary? She had professed that she didn't want to lose him and was stubborn despite his endeavors to push her away months ago. He didn't consider that she would ever tire of him and move on. By rights, she should have when she showed up at his apartment to keep him from leaving the country.

“I'm happy with her now.” He divulged. “A ring doesn't necessarily mean a happy ending and I found that out the hard way. She's had plenty of just cause to walk away and decided not to. I can't imagine she would easily change her mind. She's more loyal than that.”

Samantha hummed a little, finishing off half of the french toast piece before bothering to speak again. “Charles. Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

He gave her a befuddled look. “If all is well, working at your husband's company.”

“Are you in a house or an apartment right now?”

“Apartment.”

“Do you think you'll ever buy a house in the future?”

“I suppose it's possible.”

Samantha's head shook. “I want you to picture it in your mind. Your hair may or may not start sprouting a few grays. Possibly my husband's work. You may or may not still be working next to Sam as your assistant. You'd have your same co-workers if the contracts are good. Are you planning on living by yourself in ten years? Do you ever hope for a family?”

'Yes' was on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't say it. He looked to the coffee he knew had to be cold by now and took a drink.

“Your silence tells me a possible yes, but I'd like to hear that from you. Please be honest with me. These are all hypothetical of course.”

“Yes. I've always wanted a family.” He murmured.

“Have you ever thought about who that mysterious woman would be?”

“I had thought I had her when I married her.” He nearly groused, looking over as the waitress came to their table again.

“May I have a refill of black tea? And he might need more coffee.” Samantha interjected. She passed her cup over and sat back when it was presented near her. “Thank you dear.” She smiled when the woman walked away before turning back. “Close your eyes, Charles.” He blinked but did as told. “Blacken out your mind. I want to try and paint you a picture.” Samantha picked up the teacup and gently cradled the hot liquid in her hands. “You make quite a good salary under my husband and it has allowed you to buy any house that you want. Your mortgage is low and not anything that you worry about. You own your own car and don't have that bill to be concerned with. You come home from a long day of work, contracts and meetings. You have a suit on and once you past the threshold, you take that jacket off to relax from such a day. You smell something in the kitchen because, well...it's about dinner time when you get home. You put your things down and head into the room. There's a back to you, but the person turns to face you and greet you. Can you picture that face in your mind?”

Samara was there within a second, a happy smile on her face when she met his eyes. The imagery of her cooking in the kitchen, aside from whatever else she had been doing that day, felt normal. Taking her in his arms and kissing her after a day away felt good. Hearing her go on about her day a little and asking questions about his flittered through his mind.

The fact that he was unable to fully put his arms around her due to a large bump at her stomach had his eyes shooting open.

His chest heaved, eyes watering as they darted around the table. His arms trembled a little as he tried to gain control of himself, but the vision was in his head. It lodged itself in his heart, expanding to dangerous portions. He lost everyone around him, Samantha included, as he tried to come back to the outside world.

She watched him come unglued a little, knowing he had found more than what she just tried to do. She sat back in her chair, sipping the tea as she quietly let him come to terms with what he needed to. She let him bury his face in his hands and harshly wipe away a tear that tried to escape. She nibbled on the remaining piece of bacon that was lukewarm by now and quietly cut into the eggs she hadn't touched yet.

It was hard to realize where he was and that he might be making a scene. He tried to calm the shaking, dry his eyes, and pause the sudden haste that made him want to jump to his seat and flee to his car. To race back to that office and beg for her forgiveness and profess everything he had stupidly been keeping to himself. Hands shot away from his face to find Samantha watching him with an even expression. He stared at her for breaths before looking around as if just seeing the restaurant.

“I think I need to go.” He blurted out, wanting to bounce his leg on the floor.

Samantha smiled softly. “Do you love her Charles?”

“Yes.” He immediately answered, eyes strong. “Yes, I...I love her. So much that I can't stand it right now.”

“I'm glad. Hold onto that for...oh...the next thirty years, okay?” Green eyes looked to the half-eaten omelet before jumping across the room and waving a hand when she spotted the waitress. She politely smiled at the woman when she neared. “Would you please wrap up his meal to go? He suddenly has very urgent business to take care of. And I'll take the check for both. Could I also get another tea refill please?”

“Samantha...”

Slim fingers reached across the table, the other hand following once he took her first one. “You hold onto that conviction Charles. I know that Sam has a very kind, forgiving heart, but deep down she's wishing to hear the words from you. Don't disappoint her.”

He nearly jumped from his chair when the bag containing his food was placed on the table. He grabbed it and everything else he came inside with. “I won't let you down Samantha! I owe you so much, but right now I must go. I'll find a way to repay you later.”

He didn't wait for a goodbye and headed off. Samantha watched him go with an amused snort. “Well, I was going to say a few grandkids would do just fine, but I'll have to mention it at the wedding I suppose...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give it up for moms. They always know just what to do. XD


	38. happily ever after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He held up the ivy, seeing wide, slightly curious eyes on the green leaves. "I was a terrible person to have ever said 'no'. I was insane. I must have been. To you, who always gave so much and never asked for anything in return, save for my love and time. Two very precious things to me. This simple plant, I now ask you to take...as a vow of marriage." Teeth harshly bit his lip. "Please marry me. Please keep making me the happiest I've ever been in my life. Please give me your fidelity in exchange for my undying loyalty to you."

He often had problems with speeding when it came to Samara. There were way too many instances that he could think of in the last few months alone where he forced himself to take it slow or get a ticket for running a red light.

This time he gave into the urge, passing through more yellow lights than he probably had in his entire time driving in The States. The urge that covered him from head to toe was so strong that he felt if he didn't act on it right now, he would chicken out and fall back to how he had been for the entire relationship with her.

The restaurant seemed too far away from Young Technologies. He grit his teeth at the number of blocks he had left to go. Half a mile. That was it. But it was too much. Anything other than him getting off that elevator to the ground floor wasn't good enough.

The epiphany shouldn't be so amazing. He had been in love with her for months and probably long before she tried to drunkenly crawl into his bed. Long before their first sexual encounter. Probably around the time they had their first date and he was thinking about her way after he left her apartment. She was in his head the first time she showed him the affection and attention he had been craving since his divorce. A few, genuine kind words and smile from her was all it took for the stray dog that he was to follow her back home, wagging his tail the whole way.

He scoffed at how pathetically easy he had been to tame. She wasn't even aware she was doing it in the beginning. That scene in his apartment where he finally accepted her hand was where she knew just what she was saying and how much it effected him. Since then, she had chosen her words and actions with more care, the latest incident in his office with her attack and withdrawal was proof of that.

His irritation at her subdued acceptance of his response was more toward himself than her. She had fought him on his emotional inability before and he unconsciously needed that to get past his own insecurities. He was too hesitant to take the first step, which was why he was practically racing from his car right now.

He skidded to a stop before the closed elevator doors and pressed the button. An idea popped into his head and he realized his bad timing, but knew it wouldn't take long to get them to the business. It would be hard to get reception underground, so he opened the contacts list and left the number he had already utilized before as he thought about just what he wanted.

A dozen roses was boring, but effective. This also needed to be a rush job, so it had to be mildly common and available. 'Hmm...red carnations should work if I explain them. Red chrysanthemum. I wonder if they have columbine in stock? Ferns? That seems odd...but it could be a good side piece if they strip the other leaves... Hydrangeas might be too odd-looking. Definitely ivy...'

The elevator dinged and he got on, head full of mental pictures and trying to look up the rest with little success. He crossed his arms in anticipation, a finger tapping in his impatience.

He barely greeted Lucy, pressing the call button on his phone and rushing into his office. He noticed Samara's door was cracked, probably awaiting his return, but he almost snuck into his room. He knew the second he saw her, the flowers would become useless and he felt he needed props to make his point. Also, aside from hugging and kissing the daylights out of her, he didn't know just what he would say. She had agonized about this for days and thought about what to say; he should take such care as she had.

"Hello. I would like a rush order for a special bouquet. Yes I'll pay the extra fee. Do you have in stock fern, ivy, red carnation, red chrysanthemum, and purple columbine? Yes, the red columbine will work instead of purple. I would like all thorns pulled and please wrap the bouquet so it can be easily taken apart." He dug into his pocket for his wallet. "How long will it take? I am willing to pay for a double rush charge to have it made now and delivered the second it's finished. Please drop it off at the front desk. I have the address ready when you are."

All finished, he hung up the phone and tossed everything on his desk. He gave into the need to pace. Adrenaline, hope, love, uncertainty. They raged in him so high that he felt as he did when he proposed to Gwen as a teenager. But, this time was even more important than that; this was the rest of his life as he believed it. A loyalty as strong as what Samara had would follow him through the decades, through any challenge time would throw their way.

'Believe.' He mentally coached. 'She already asked you once. You just need to have the nerve to reciprocate.'

It wasn't that really. He didn't think he could handle the rejection if she, for whatever reason, decided to change her mind. Why he didn't know when she was the one to ask for his hand in the first place. It didn't make sense, but his paranoia and fear was starting to do its job just like he thought. "Focus!" He harshly mumbled, shaking his head. Hand clenched to fists at his side. "Believe in her! She loves you! How many times have you lost track asking for it? All you need to do it say it! That's where the flowers will help. You can get past the discomfort once you get started!"

A thumb made its way to his teeth in Samara fashion, anxious eyes on the door. How long did it take flowers to get here anyway?! He should've found a closer business, but he had used this company once before for Samara and knew of their services. Their performance was worth the one hundred plus bill he just forked over for this.

"Maybe this was a bad idea." He mumbled, mouth covering his hand. "If I just suck it up, I shouldn't need those flowers. But, they'd be a nice addition to give to her. A paltry return to all she's done first."

There was a knock on his door and he jumped, whirling in its direction. His heart accelerated far beyond climbing around in his ribcage and he mentally panicked. The bouquet wasn't here yet! He wasn't ready!

"Charles?" There was another knock. "I've got a delivery with your name on it."

At the sound of Lucy's muffled voice, there was a huge letdown to the point that his hands were shaking. It took only a few long strides to reach the door, but he yanked it open with the force of everything coursing through him.

The decorative wrapping crinkled in Lucy's hands as she held it out for him to take.

"They've got your name on them. Did Sam buy you flowers? That's so cute! I thought the coffees would've been enough. Although, I could see these being for her more than for you."

Wide blue eyes whipped to said person's door that was across from his. It was still open and they were practically right in front of it as it was. His hand snatched them away, looking to the petals and hoping he hadn't just messed them up.

"Are you okay? You look really stressed out about something." A brow went up. "Was it about breakfast with Sam's mom? I'm sorry I didn't say anything about it when I handed you that paper. I didn't know if you wanted her to know since Sam wasn't included."

His jaw clenched when the door opened, that part probably the last straw. He glared at Lucy a little before looking to Samara and futilely covering the flowers behind his back.

"Charles? Did I hear that you met with my mom this morning?"

Trembling fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Damn it. This is not how I wanted to start this!'

"Thank you for that insight Lucy." He growled, hand moving her out of the way of his beloved. "If you'll excuse me, I've got a sudden, very important meeting with Miss Young and I absolutely don't want either of us disturbed until this door opens back up."

Lucy suddenly smirked, unsuccessfully hiding behind a hand. "Understood. Good luck Charles..."

He put a hand on Samara's shoulder and practically pushed her back into her office, face hot as he nearly slammed the door behind him once he was far enough in. All while trying to hide the flowers he was afraid he was crushing in his strength and nerves.

She stumbled a little, looking at him like he was crazy. "Charles, what's the matter with you?!"

He faced the door and anxiously fluffed the petals a little. The smell wafted to his nose and some of them were calming. He deeply breathed in the scent, clearing his throat. "Samara, please sit down."

She looked to the multitudes of places and back at him. The crinkling noise met her ears and she gave him a confused look, lips tilting. "Did you go out and get me flowers?" Hands extended to take them, but he stood in front of her with no intention of holding them out for her to take. Her brows went up to see them shake in his hold. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

He extended a hand to the couch. "Please Bunty...I need a few moments of your time. This...this is important."

She nodded and promptly took up one side, avid and worried eyes on him.

He wanted to pace all over again. He quickly exhaled a deep breath before joining her. He stared at the colors for a second as he desperately tried to remember just how he was going to do this before undoing the paper.

"I need you to please be silent and let me say what I need to tell you before I lose my nerve."

She leaned forward, concerned, mothering hand out to soothe him. "Charles, you -"

His fingers covered her lips, unable to be still. He took in her shock, at the eyes taking him in again. "Please. I have been silent for far too long, and I must do this." She nodded and he let go. His hand reached down and picked up two red columbines. He held one in each hand, extended for her to take. "A red columbine represents anxiousness and trembling." He exhaled a shaking breath. "Please take these and know that what I have to say is very hard for me to do. I have warred with myself on this meeting for a long time, with more direly necessary things getting stacked on until this second." Her hands came out and gently did as such. She stared at them in confusion for a second before they were carefully draped across her skirt.

He wished his heart would stop bouncing around his ribcage like it was a jungle gym! He went for the small handful of red carnations and held them up. "These carnations depict a poor, aching heart. For months, I've been prisoner to my own head and my heart has suffered because of it. I apologize that you also had to deal with it." He watched her mouth open for words, but quickly clamp shut with tight lips. She merely nodded and added to the now pile cradled in her lap.

He went for the next set. "Fern is symbolic of humility and sincerity." Near scared blue met kind brown. "I was presented with a situation that forced me to come to terms with my emotions. Everything that I am about to say, I mean and am terribly sorry for never having said before." He barely waited for her to take the fronds before holding up the next set. "Chrysanthemum. A flower of...l - love." He watched her eyes fly open and immediately water. He gripped her free hand. "I love you Samara Young. Truly. Madly. Deeply. With a passion that I've hardly been able to contain whenever I'm near you." He rapidly blinked as his eyes teared. Tracks were already on her face, but there were no hands she could wipe them away with. "I...I am so sorry that I was never able to verbalize myself before now. You never deserved my silence. Your kindness and generosity gave me an excuse to never force myself to admit it to you."

"Charles, that's not true!"

His head shook with more venom than he thought, effectively lodging some hair loose. "I was a coward, but you understood that. You forgave me every time. I didn't deserve that. I treated you horribly. I'm so very sorry for that."

He grabbed the ivy and put the now empty paper next to him on the couch. He slid to one knee in front of her, feeling himself sweat more than any bout at fencing class. He held up the ivy, seeing wide, slightly curious eyes on the green leaves. "I was a terrible person to have ever said 'no'. I was insane. I must have been. To you, who always gave so much and never asked for anything in return, save for my love and time. Two very precious things to me. This simple plant, I now ask you to take...as a vow of marriage." Teeth harshly bit his lip. "Please marry me. Please keep making me the happiest I've ever been in my life. Please give me your fidelity in exchange for my undying loyalty to you." Shunted blue looked to the stem, anxiety at his final words crushing him in fear. "However...I...I'll understand if you also choose to say no. I'll do whatever it takes to change your mind and -"

She finally lost the ability to remain still any longer and launched herself at him, knocking him back and almost injuring them both on the nearby table. "You silly man you!" She sobbed, gripping his suit jacket. "How could you ever think I'd say no?! Of course I'll marry you!"

The adrenaline and her words overrode the pain in the back of his head. The second it burrowed deep enough into his ears and lodged into his head, he exhaled a shuddery cry and wrapped his arms tightly around her. He quickly sat them up, pulling her into his lap without a care as to how they looked. He had to touch as much of her as possible. To know that she would be his forever. To cement that in his head and make it real.

She clutched the lapels, wetting the fabric with happy tears that didn't want to stop. That she didn't want to stop.

She didn't know just when they started kissing, but her lips pressed against his in need to replace his mouth. She moved against him as insistently as he did, not knowing whom needed the other more. She touched his face as he did to her, skin needing to have contact.

He finally tore his lips away when he couldn't breathe past the sobs in his throat. He clutched her to him, burying his face in her shoulder as he tried to tell himself to be gentle with her. To take care of the angel that would lift him up as he had done to her. "Thank you..." He rambled. "I'm s - so happy! Thank you for giving me a chance!"

"I should be saying that!" She brokenly retorted. "You always gave me everything for my sake! You always put me ahead of you. I can't even begin to repay you!"

He pulled away and took her hands in his. "Repay me over the next fifty years. You have time. I have time. Let's not rush anything...Mrs. Jones."

Her heart screamed in happiness and jumped up to her throat at that. She nodded, chin trembling and eyes spewing forth fresh tears. "O...okay... Mr. Jones. My husband."

He practically matched her look, leaning his forehead against hers. "Samara Jones...my wife."

Time stopped. The office disappeared for minutes as they wrapped in a bubble so opaque it could only reflect wedding rings and white dresses. Red roses and happy smiles. Champagne glasses clinking together and laughter. Dozens of hugs and excited chattering. Of passion and promise.

Teeth bit her lip as the images of possibility floated through her head. They'd need a song, but there were so many that could be played which represented them. She bet her family and friends could find a playlist days long to give to them on the dance floor. It started a giggle that had her stomach quivering and unable to stop. To feel her joy mingle with his and bring forth his own ecstatic laughter. To feel her arms go back around him as his did her.

The world slowly returned, the bubble thinning out until it eventually popped. She slowly got to her feet, stretching at the awkward position she had been in which was making her back ache. She watched him do the same, but the second he finished, his arms went around her again. She was almost blinded by his smile and the way he looked at her. It made tears come to her eyes.

“I love you Samara Jones.” He breathed, taking in her features. “I am yours and you are mine. I always have been. From the night of our first dinner together when we discussed your game. You were in my head with no way of escaping. You rebuilt a home for my heart with your love and your loyalty. Your unwavering faith that I always questioned from my own past. Please reset my past with your future.”

Tears fell in the crinkles at the corners of her eyes from a smile so large it threatened to split her face in two. She nodded, sniffling. “I p – promise.” She mumbled, lips claiming his. He eagerly met them, arms at her back to keep her against him for as long as possible. When she pulled away only because her smile wouldn't be contained, laughter followed it.

He didn't know what time it was, but he didn't feel like doing a shred of work. Not with as blissful as this moment was. “I can't find it in me to be productive.” He suddenly announced. He kissed her knuckles, giddiness bubbling up in him. “Shall we go out somewhere fancy and celebrate?”

A brow rose. “Does it have to be fancy?” She queried, head tilting.

“Always.” He easily retorted with a grin. “Grab your things. I will get mine and we'll head out.” Parting was easier than it had been since he stepped foot in the office. He swiped his wallet and phone off the desk, finding her ready just as quick, and took her hand in his.

They didn't even get to the end of the hallway before the cheering startled them both.

She shrieked in surprise and halted as if running into a brick wall. He did very much the same at finding what looked like the entire office in front of Lucy's desk clapping with wide smiles on their faces. The two looked at each other with wide eyes, faces heating.

“I guess we shouldn't be shocked...” She mumbled, feeling laughter escape yet again.

He chuckled, head shaking helplessly. “I suppose not. Should we bow? I don't know if they're going to stop.”

“Why not?” She asked, full out giggling. They quickly extended their heads to their co-workers, wondering just how may invites they'd need to print after this afternoon.

Unfortunately, the noise also drew Samuel from his office.

“What's going on here?” He asked, brow up. He looked to everyone and followed their eyes, finding his beloved daughter and Charles too close for his liking. His eye twitched, arms tensing a few times to reach out and pull their hands apart, though he restrained himself.

“Charles just proposed!” Lucy exclaimed, hands covering her cheeks.

“He what?!”

Samara walked forward, putting her hands on his arm when she watched it flex. “I'm so happy, dad!” She gushed, arms going around him. “Now I know why you and mom got married so soon. This is what real love feels like!”

Samuel heaved a sigh, forcing a larger smile than he wanted through the blinding one of his only daughter. “I'm...happy for you pumpkin.” Stern, brown eyes looked over her head, locking with blue...and seeing a level of delight on his employee's face that he didn't think he'd ever seen. A hand begrudgingly stuck out around the one Samara was still clasping. “I guess...this is congratulations Jones.”

Charles smiled and clasped the man's hand, wincing a little when it was squeezed hard on purpose. “Thank you Mr. Jones. I swear to you I won't let your daughter down. She's made me even happier than I've made her. I promise you that.”

Samuel's eye twitched again, those words hitting his father heart hard. “Good, good. That's what I always want to hear.”

“Dad...” Samara warned, taking in how upset he looked.

Samuel snatched his hand back as if getting caught in the cookie jar before dinner. He patted Samara's back with a big smile. “I'll let you get back to it, pumpkin. I...have a sudden urge to call your mother. Right now. Excuse me.”

Samara looked at the door as it slammed shut and heard the muffled, despairing cry. She shook her head with a sigh, turning at Charles's hold around her waist.

“Shall we, Bunty?” He asked with a smile. “Your father will be in safe hands of your mother. Besides, she already knows about all of this.”

A dark brow went up as she looked at the smile on his face. “That's also a conversation for lunch, I imagine. But I'd love to hear it.”

Lucy was suddenly hugging her, lightly crying. “I'm so happy for you Sam!” She gushed. “I wondered just what Charles was doing with a bouquet with flowers, but after getting Samantha's call yesterday afternoon, I just knew that's what it was about!”

Samara smiled and patted the secretary's back. “Thanks Lucy.” She replied, suspicious eyes on Charles.

Everyone took that moment to swarm them. Umed shook Charles's hand as did most of the IT staff that didn't have a problem with crowds. The ones that were a little more socially anxious of the large group hung back and nodded their response whenever either blue or brown eyes would meet theirs. It seemed almost overwhelming; the well wishes, handshakes, and extraneous joy. It piled upon them enough to take out to lunch when they finally broke away as everyone either headed back to their cubicle or out the main door with the pair for their own eating spot.

The sun was shining, the temperature warm, and love was at his side. It was so cheesy, but it was his life from this point on. He mentally picked a place he knew they'd have an easy forty-five minute wait until their food would arrive to allot for discussion on all things wedding-related.

He shut her door and hurried to his. He felt like a child with a best friend for the first time ever. Like he just won the lottery and never needed to work again. Like he had just jumped from a plane with no parachute and discovered he could fly.

Life was puffy clouds and kittens and hearts and warm spring days and fields of fragrant flowers. He envisioned many more giddy instances like this making it highly difficult to get through days at the office all over again when he desperately wanted to be by her side. Meetings out of the building would be torture and he just knew he was going to need to move his desk into her office for a month or two in order to readjust.

Samara stepped from the car, hand eagerly entwining with his as they headed past the main doors. She couldn't get the smile off her face, but saw the equal size on Charles's and knew hers was warranted. “I feel like my chest is going to explode.” She happily reported.

He looked at her, a snort escaping. “I feel the same way, Bunty.” He murmured as they followed the server. He stepped in front of her and pulled her chair out, free hand waving to it. “If you would allow me, my dear wife.”

She broke into giggles, face heating up as she shuffled forward, seeing he was all too pleased with himself. She stuck her face behind a menu when she couldn't stop laughing, but jolted to attention when there was a touch of skin against her fingers. She dropped the plastic below her glasses almost shyly, eyes still incredibly crinkled.

“I prefer to see those beautiful eyes of yours, Bunty.” He murmured, sweet smile on his face.

Her head ducked with a nod as she dropped the menu.

“And hold your hand.” He added.

Lips pressed together as a palm extended for him to take. “Am I going to need to order soup so I can eat? I have a feeling you're not going to let me go.”

“Metaphorically speaking, never. However, I suppose I could acquiesce for twenty minutes.”

Her eyes playfully narrowed when his smirk didn't go down. “I'll remember that Mr. Jones.”

“And I'll remember to counter accordingly, Mrs. Jones.”

She dissolved into a fit again, face exploding like the sun. Hands slapped over her cheeks in attempt to hide it, but she couldn't stop from making an idiot out of herself at the table of a very posh place he decided to take them to.

It took a moment to compose herself and her fingers split from their positions covering her face. “Maybe we should've gone somewhere cheaper...” She mumbled, looking around.

He smiled and used his elbow and palm to prop his head up. “I see no problem. You are a very beautiful woman in love and I am in love with you as well.” His smile widened, eyes bashfully going to the table. “That...feels very good to admit.”

Her fingers instantly squeezed his in reassurance. “And I think you've got some making up for lost time Mr. Jones.”

Soft eyes met hers for a moment before he nodded. “That I do, Mrs. Jones. I'll say it as often as you request, just as I did to you.”

She leaned forward, ignoring the fact that they were supposed to be ordering food. “We should play hookey for the rest of the day! Tomorrow will be here soon enough!”

He gave her a slightly dry look, even though the thought was worming its way in his head. “And pray tell Mrs. Jones, just what would we do for the rest of the afternoon?”

Teeth bit her lip for a second. “Well...we could go look for rings, or look at dresses, or go get ice cream and coffee after this at Dee's. We could sit on the roof with Bowser and talk about honeymoon locations or who is going to sell who's apartment or if you want to buy a house or anything we want!”

He smiled, looking to their hands. “I always did have a hard time saying 'no' to you, Bunty.” He murmured. “You make everything sound so inviting.”

She kept the laughter inside, but it was hard. She leaned forward, making her eyes wider and batted them a few times. “Please Charles? I'm just so happy right now. I don't want to go back to work. I want to continue celebrating this with you.”

An eye twitched as he resisted the urge to pick her up in his arms and kiss the daylights out of her. His eyes narrowed a little. He was silent for a minute as he mentally reviewed his schedule. “I'll need to have Lucy call that meetings I had later in the afternoon, but it's so close to closing that tomorrow morning wouldn't be too horrible I suppose.”

She squealed a little and beamed at him, shoulders at her ears. “Thanks Mr. Jones!”

He brought her knuckles to his lips, head shaking. “Anything for you, Mrs. Jones.”

There was a sudden clearing of someone's throat as they suddenly realized they were in public and looked to the smiling waitress who had been standing there for who knew how long. “Did I hear you two are getting married? Congratulations! Are you...ready to order?”

Samara yanked her hand back to flip through the menu real quick, but Charles just looked at the woman. “We'll need five more minutes, please. Apologies for taking up your time.”

“It's perfectly fine sir. May I just add that you two are utterly adorable. I'll be back in five minutes.”

She pulled the plastic from her face once the silence returned. “Yea...work is going to be a bad idea for productivity I think...” She murmured, face resembling a tomato.

“Something else we'll need to work on later.” He shrugged.

Lunch was fantastic, cloud nine continuing on through dessert and stepping back into the car. She let him shut it again, having lost count long ago. She looked to him when he shut his door and went for his belt. She shuffled in her seat, antsy to go celebrate now that Lucy was aware of their not coming back. “So...where to next?”

“I'll start driving and you point out what sounds good as we go.”

A brow rose. “That sounds very theoretical.”

He snorted and backed from the space. “I suppose it is.”

She looked at the edge of the parking lot they were nearing. She didn't miss the metaphor of them leaving one area for a new road in the same vehicle together, diving it while nicely belted in and ready for traffic as they went forward with hands properly clasped on the wheel.

“Onward!” She blurted out, giggling in happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flowers: https://www.almanac.com/content/flower-meanings-language-flowers
> 
> I know this seems slightly awkward and a very open ending. I got the feeling that people were losing interest, so I closed it. Thank you all for reading from beginning to end. I hope it was as great a read as I had making it. This was originally only to be three chapters, but became something so much bigger and took over my life in a great way. Thank you to my Muse and my Springboard for all of the ideas and helping to hash out my writer's block. Thanks to all my Discord peeps for all of the little ideas that helped round out this story. Thanks to all my readers, past, current, and future. I hope it was worth the time, even though it was only about three months in the making. Please stay tuned to the mini short stories that will be under the 'sequel' called Still More Than Worth It. I did a few aftermath shorts to round out the pain of this ending. I know this didn't end with a wedding, but the pair obviously get married after this.
> 
> See you on the flip side! <3


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